


Denial

by Brytewolf (brytewolf)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-15
Updated: 2011-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brytewolf/pseuds/Brytewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denial or, 5 times Bones touched Jim when he wouldn't know, and one time he did. When Leo bumped into the kid at the bar, he never knew that he'd met the one who would save him from his loneliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Touch

Denial (or 5 times Bones touched Jim when he wouldn't know, and one time he did)

* * *

 **The First Touch**

* * *

It's too loud. And there are far too many people crammed into one place (all these damn college kids, and he can't even remember what it felt like to be that age anymore) for his liking. If he had a choice, he'd be out of here without a second thought (and it's not as if they'd notice his absence, anyway, he's just one more old man taking up a stool at the bar). But he doesn't have a choice. Because if he wants to survive tomorrow (his own personal hell), and the shuttle ride, he needs to be as far from sober as he can get.

Which is why he is currently sitting, nursing a bourbon and trying to avoid the thoughts flitting around the back of his mind (too tender by far, raw and open as a wound – and one he has no way of healing, except by giving it time).

But he's the type of person that dwells on what-ifs and possibilities. It's a requirement for his work (the only passion he has left to him, he won't let the bitch take that too) – the ability to quickly run through and discard any number of options, and arrive at the correct one in the timeliest manner. It's this aspect of his personality that has saved so many lives.

It doesn't make him feel any better when he looks back, and realizes that months ago he had followed a thread of thinking to his current situation. Because he also realizes that it was his own refusal (to see something broken past fixing) that had led him to dismissing it. His hope then had been that love could conquer all, and that somehow they'd be able to pull something out of the ashes of their love for each other, come to a reconciliation of some kind (for Joanna's sake, if nothing else).

Joanna….

Turning away from the bar (where the bartender has been shooting him odd looks but he can't help if he looks like shit) he slides off the stool and looks around the room.

There's too many damn kids here (that's what the problem is, he knows that now). They're all so young, full of hope (as they piss their night away, the way he wants to but there's too much hanging on his shoulders and he'll never have the chance again). It makes his scowl deepen, and he takes the last swallow of his drink – setting the empty glass on the bar before stepping away.

Maybe he'll be able to find someplace quieter in this tiny little town. His cursory glance previously hadn't revealed any other locations, but maybe if he digs a little deeper something will come up. At the very least, he can get a bottle at the convenience store and wander the rest of the night (even though in his head he can hear Jocelyn's laughter, her commentary about how low he has fallen).

But she's not here, and never will be again (good riddance).

Huffing to himself, he steps away from (the safe section) near the bar, and descends into the chaos that is the main area of the establishment. So many bodies pressed together, he can't avoid brushing against them and they (scratch at his nerves, the tender parts of him that are too raw by half) bump against him, laughing and jostling (without a care in the world, damn them and their innocence).

And he's moving towards the door, but it seems to take forever (time stolen by the hands brushing against him, minutes seconds disappear slipping from his grasp) and he's only halfway there when (some damn little punk kid) a lithe body slams into his.

The (brightest damn beautiful) blue eyes raise to his hazel ones, and his own widen in surprise (amazement, ecstasy). A scowl marring those (still breath-stealing somehow) stubble-coated features, as the blonde-haired kid looks up at him.

"Hey, old man, watch where you're going."

The audacity (he's only fucking twenty eight, it's not like he's that much older than this punk even though he knows he must look like he's eighty) of the young brat, but he can't even respond before the kid is slipping away and past him.

Taking the stool _he'd_ just vacated at the bar. Anger simmers beneath the surface of his thoughts, but Leo doesn't (can't, he doesn't have enough left for it anymore, he's too broken inside and can't really give a damn about anything except a little girl's smile that he hopes to be able to see again) dwell on the little punk's attitude, instead using the opportunity to extract himself (and flee flee flee, cause there's too many damn people here and he _hurts_ ) from the crowd.

(*)

Through the pounding in his head, that no amount (of self-medication, cause that's always a great idea) pain killers will be able to disperse, his tongue feeling heavy and thick in his jaw (and his eyeballs trying to burn out of their sockets, he can't forget that) he manages to stumble onto the (hellish excuse for transportation, his worst nightmare and this is going to be his fucking life so he may as well learn to deal now) shuttle.

Tries to hide in the head, tiny as it is (because there are no windows, dear fucking god the windows and he doesn't want to _see_ his doom coming for him) but the stewardess finds him. Drags him from his sanctuary and there's an argument (but he's not paying attention, all he sees are the windows everywhere that in several minutes are going to be showing him the vastness of space that surrounds them) but she forces him to sit in one of the chairs like everyone else (he supposes he should be grateful that he's not treated like the charity case he feels like sometimes, but gratitude is something that bitch stole from him a long time ago).

And he's glaring around (daring anyone to talk to him, that's what he's doing) as he puts the seatbelt on, determined not to let his fear show. But then he turns to view (the poor sap) his seatmate, and his heart stops in his throat.

It's that kid from last night. It's obvious that he doesn't remember Leo (even though, somehow, he's the only thing Leo can remember from the whole fucking evening). The one with the (he's so fucking gorgeous, and why hadn't he noticed it before? It must have been the eyes, they certainly are distracting) cocky attitude far too big for his age. And they're talking (but Leo can't even pay attention, so surprised by the coincidence that his mental functions have ceased completely) even joking together and somehow it feels as easy as breathing (what the _fuck_ did he just admit to? He's not supposed to talk about that, not to anyone not ever).

That is, until the shuttle shifts beneath them, taking off.

"I might throw up on you." (and he curses himself for the words, wishing desperately he was glib or something equally impressive but he's just Leo and he knows that's never been enough for anyone least of all himself) he finds himself admitting, as his eyes widen in horror.

He's no longer staring at those eyes, his attention instead past the kid's (what the hell did he say his name was, Leo can't forget important details like that) shoulder, focused intently on the window that he can't tear his eyes away from.

But the kid just laughs at him (and where the hell does he get off, being so damn nonchalant) his head cocked back (and oh damn, he's got one of those crinkly smiles that take Leo's breath away) not even caring who hears him.

And then the kid's distracting him (somehow, how the fuck does he do it, like it's something he's always done) talking to Leo and making Leo laugh.

They chat animatedly all the way to Starfleet Academy, all the way off the shuttle (and he never even thought about the fact that they were in space, didn't have a panic attack and – thank god – didn't even have to avoid throwing up on the kid) until they're standing under the San Franciscan sun.

Then the kid clasps his shoulder, giving him (one of this crinkly ones again, and Leo can already feel his heart melting but god damn it it's not like he'll ever see the kid again) another smile.

"See you around, old man."

(*)

He's unsurprised when, even weeks later, he hasn't caught sight of that blonde head even once (not to say he's been searching for it, cause even in his head he won't admit that). The Academy is just so huge (so many kids, and he never imagined this many people would ever want to be trapped in that hell-hole commonly referred to as space) and crammed to the brim with eager (so full of aspirations it makes him sick, because as a doctor he's privy to _exactly_ what percentage of these kids will never make it back down to Earth) hopefuls running through corridors and basically making it hard for him to get anything accomplished.

His shift at the Academy's clinic is over, and it's late. Thankful (for small miracles at least, they're the only ones he ever seems gifted with) that it's a Friday, and most of the students are off-campus (celebrating because they're young, and they have youth's exuberance) at the bars and clubs.

All he wants is to go to his favorite diner, alone with his (too morbid by far, but what can he do about that?) thoughts to nurse a cup of coffee before he crawls back to his (empty, and why did they think that just because he was older than the rest of them, he wouldn't be grateful for a roommate to chase away some of his loneliness?) dorm room where he has a good book waiting for him.

He's been enjoying _The Catcher and the Rye_ (for the umpteenth time, and maybe he still hopes that it will give him some insight into his existence and what he should grasp in his life) and this weekend he should be able to finish a big chunk of it.

Focused on his footsteps (and okay, perhaps some blue eyes that have been haunting his dreams and every waking thought) as he travels the dimly-lit pathways between buildings, he lets his legs carry him to his destination.

And then (because isn't it just his fucking luck, he should have expected it) because he's not paying attention, he does not see the body he's about to collide with.

Until they've already crashed together, eliciting a (rather undignified, he can readily admit) squawk of surprise from Leo. It's dark, and the other person is not really visible in the low light. But there's a peel of laughter that escapes from the other person.

And Leo's eyebrows raise in surprise (and more than that, as his heart does this funny little flurry thing in his throat) as he stares down at the one person he never expected (but he'd hoped, oh god how he'd hoped, cause he's sick like that and he must be a masochist cause all he does is cause himself pain) to see again.

"Hey, Bones." It slides easily off the kid's tongue, that grin so huge (and so crinkly around the edges, and oh _fuck_ the kid can't be as happy to see him as Leo is to see the kid) Leo can easily identify it in the dark.

"Where've you been?" as if the kid has been expecting him (definitely not like Leo has, looking for those eyes around every corner).

And there's two questions that Leo thinks of immediately (Only two? He's kidding himself here, but he knows and lets it slide) but he answers the most pertinent one first.

"Who the hell is Bones?"

And then, like it explains everything (which, in the kid's head, it probably does), "You, of course!"

Ah-ha. He'll let that one go (for the moment, but he sure as hell is getting the story for how _that_ happened. And protesting. Definitely protesting), and asks his next question.

"What do you mean, where have I been? I haven't been anywhere but this school for the last month and a half!"

A lazy smile in the dark, and a hand on his shoulder (and what right did that have, feeling so damn good and – oh shit.), as the kid turns him back around.

"You looked like you were headin' somewhere interesting. I'll come with, and we can catch up!"

"I was going to Joe's Diner, so I could enjoy some grub by myself. And a cup of coffee."

He finds himself answering, against his will (surprised he's giving away so much, already. But he can't help himself, not when those eyes are staring at him like that).

"Coffee guy, are you? Somehow I'm not surprised."

And just like that, the kid is walking forward like he (has every right to invite himself along, without asking without telling and Leo can't let him get away with this. He likes his solitude and his loneliness, and how is he supposed to brood if he has company?) knows where he's going.

Leo stands still, dumbstruck (and admit it, unable to form coherent sentences cause he's so damn happy to see the kid again, the little snot) as the kid walks away.

Without even stopping (so fluid and easy in his grace) the kid turns around, walking backwards as he grins at Leo.

"You coming?"

And he's even more frozen in place at the words, which makes the kid stop in his tracks (and is he _waiting_ for Leo? No one's ever waited for him before, no one ever gave a damn and they sure as hell never wanted Leo's company no matter how he deluded himself) and raise an eyebrow at him eloquently.

"Well?"

But he sure as hell doesn't want to make the kid wait (and he won't admit that he's jogging to catch up, no not never not to nobody) and the kid does, patiently watching him until Leo is at his side before turning back the way they're going.

His shoulder bumps against Leo's, companionably (and doesn't that just fucking feel great, big masochistic bastard) keeping pace.

Walking the same line, parallel.

(*)

Even though they'd never caught sight of each other before, somehow (unbelievable and wonderful even though it's really trying Leo's patience now) they bump into each other continuously now.

He's not even really consciously aware of it (which is also a lie, because he counts off every single time they're in each others presence and is desperately waiting for the next when they're not) but the kid and he have been spending most of their free time together – and even some that isn't, as they've become study-buddies (and doesn't that just top the fucking cake! It's not enough that they have meals together, and those gym practices where the kid kicks his ass day in and day out).

But somehow, in the midst of everything, Leo'd finally realized he'd had a friend (and doesn't that make him happy, knowing he can count this brilliant amazing absolutely perfect being as his only friend?), and he didn't even have to do anything to get one.

If he didn't (suspect, hope) know any better, he'd allow himself to think that the kid was actually _trying_ to cultivate a relationship with him. More often than not, in the beginning, it was the kid who found him. Appeared at his table in the cafeteria, keeping up a running commentary as he inhaled his own food; waited patiently for him outside his class, joking as they walked to the next together.

The list went on and on (and, really, who is he kidding himself with this thing called hope. But it makes it hard to deny, easy to ignore that little voice that whispers that no one could possibly care about him, not ever and certainly not this perfect being) until eventually their schedules were the same, somehow, (and how the fuck did the kid manage that? Leo suspects that he's a master-class hacker, but he also assumed the Academy's computer systems would be better than that) and the kid was everywhere in his life.

The only time they weren't together is when they were sleeping (and, small miracles, in different rooms because no matter how masochistic he is that's just fucking cruel) and when Leo is discharging his responsibilities at the clinic.

And this is not one of those times, as they share one half of the booth with their legs propped up on the other half. The kid's side is pressed up against Leo's (and he can't help but relish even though he knows it's fucking wrong and he disgusts himself sometimes but he can't help it) and they're chuckling about one thing or another.

He takes a swig of his beer to hide his smile, watching from the corner of his eye as indignation floods those (baby-blue so beautiful) eyes, color peeking those cheeks as the kid sputters into his own beer.

"Bones! How could you say something like that?"

He doesn't reply, just gets up to get another beer for each of them. There's a grin on his face that he can't hide as he's making his way back to the booth (their booth, that they occupy every Friday night and fuck if everybody seems to know and they never have to kick anyone out) with the beers in hand.

Freezes, as a shout goes up (one so loud it can be heard over the music pounding its beat into his heart) and there's a tussle right in front of him. He can't make out any of the other participants, but (damn if it isn't obvious, and he can pick the kid out in a fucking crowd and it's just really pathetic) he can easily make out the blonde-haired form in the middle of it all.

He groans, and speeds up, in a hurry (he's worried, every damn time the kid starts a fight or finishes it, he's afraid it'll be something he can't patch up and the kid'll really get himself into trouble) to get to his friend's side.

But he's not fast enough, and his (heart stops, cause he can fucking see but he's too far away but somehow he hears himself gasping) hand goes up, the bottle it was carrying falling uncaring to the floor as a different bottle connects with the kid's temple.

And he goes down, falling into a (still somehow graceful, even in unconsciousness) heap on the beer-stained floor.

He doesn't even (give a damn) register that the fighting has ground to a halt, as he shoves himself (his elbows are pointy, and fuck if he knows how to use them to best effect) through the throng of participants to the kid's side.

Finds himself kneeling before he even realizes what he's done, testing the kid's pulse at his throat and peeling back an eyelid with the other hand.

Pupils aren't dilated, he should be okay (please, please let the little fucker be okay. If he is, Leo'll never drink again, just fuck it let him be okay). And everyone is standing around them, stunned and frozen and watching him work.

His fingers, of their own accord (and who does he think he's lying to, he's been wanting to do it since he first laid eyes on the kid) brush through the kid's hair, down over the temple (where there's already a fucking bruise, and he's going to kill whatever asshole did this to the kid – if he wasn't positive that the shadow he'd seen fleeing hadn't been the perp) and cups that cheek.

He can feel the stubble against his smooth palm, and then he lifts his hand a millimeter (so hard to do, he just wants to leave it there a little while longer, but there are people all around and what the _fuck_ does he think he's doing) to slap against the kid's face.

Gently, but hard enough to bring him back to consciousness.

"Come on, kid, wake up now."

A groan, and the cheek is pressed against his hand again (and what the _fuck_ is that, that's not good and why is he being such a fucking idiot) so he pulls his hand away, before he can do anything that the kid will see (cause he doesn't want to mess up the best damn thing that's ever happened to him, the only good thing really besides Jo who he doesn't know when he'll get to see again).

The kid's eyebrows crease for just a moment, and then his eyes open – wide and blinking (so very blinding, that blue.) up at the dingy lights in the bar.

"Bones?"

"Here, kid."

Not even asking for permission, he pulls the kid's arm over his shoulder and hefts him to his feet. The kid, still (so damn) weak, leans against him (and doesn't that feel fantastic, but he can't think about it cause it's so damn wrong cause they're friends and he shouldn't ever want anything more), putting nearly all his weight on Leo as he hangs his head.

The crowd parts before them at his (admittedly probably too intense of a) glare, and they make it outside without further incident. The kid's head is leaning against Leo's shoulder (so warm and _alive_ against him, and Leo missed this so fucking much, this two people existing in the same space thing) as the doctor drags him along.

He wants to get the kid to his dorm room, where he has a med kit and plenty of supplies (cause this isn't the first fucking time he's had to patch the kid up, but damn it, it is going to be the last!) so he can fix whatever's wrong.

He almost misses it; the sound is so soft (like the kid doesn't want him to hear, but he must because he said it aloud and it just confuses Leo further) and mumbled into the flesh of his shoulder.

"Thanks, Bones."


	2. The First Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I have so much fun writing these it's not even funny XD This story, very literally, has been writing itself!

**  
**

* * *

**  
The Second Touch**

* * *

He doesn't know how the kid did it (but he has some suspicions – namely, those insane hacking skills he's contemplated on several previous occasions) but _somehow_ he's here.

Sitting three rows back in the middle of a premiere. All around the two of them (not that he's paying attention, because he only really has eyes for the one beside him) are high-class world-shakers, Starfleet's elite and the old rich of San Francisco. It's a good thing his suit still fits (which was a surprise, considering how much his shoulders and chest have bulked up in the last year) if snug, otherwise he wouldn't have anything to wear that would even begin to fit in with this crowd.

And the kid…the kid is something else, in his flawlessly tailored (so fucking _perfect_ on him, and the blue in that bowtie makes his eyes stand out even more – something Leo had never thought possible) tuxedo, just smiling up at Leo with the biggest grin on his face. So smug, that smile (but Leo can't blame him, hell, if Leo'd come up with something like this he'd be smug too) as the kid leans back in the chair, acting for all the world like he belongs.

He looks away (not because he has to, damn it, he's _not_ getting teary-eyed at the thought of how much effort the kid put into this) at the program he's holding oh-so-carefully in his hands. The colors are fresh and vibrant on the (is this really paper? Nobody uses real paper anymore, these things must be worth a fucking fortune) images printed on the program, capturing the actors at the climax of their performance.

His old friends (from his childhood, that's how long he's known these characters and he knows it's weird but hell he's old fashioned) stare up at him from the page, their sorrow and pain frozen forever for others to witness. He traces a fingertip over Jean Valjean's face, remembering how he'd (fallen in love with, he can admit now, it's been so long since he was that boy) been fascinated by the character (and when he was older, felt he _was_ that character – always trying to do the right thing but muddling through and making a bigger mess of things).

How did the kid _know?_ Leo knows he's never spoken of this to anyone (not ever, not even when the two of them are so drunk they can't stand under their own power) so there's no way that the kid had any inkling of his desire to see the play brought to life.

But they're here. He risks a glance up at the kid, who's grin gets even _wider_ somehow, when he (catches him, and he hopes that not too much is showing on his face, because if he fucks this up he'll never forgive himself and he already has too many regrets – ) sees that Leo is watching him.

He opens his mouth to speak (to deny, to demand, to do anything but sit there in silence with those blue-blue eyes on him like that, knowing) but the lights dim and a hush falls over the crowd.

A hand on his thigh (completely innocent, damn it, no matter what the gesture does to him) gives a squeeze and disappears, as they both turn towards the brightening stage.

As _Les Miserables_ unfolds before him (more than he could have imagined, he's awestruck and dumbfounded and hearing the words spoken changes the entire dynamic of…everything) he sits there, not moving the slightest bit as his eyes drink everything in. But (even as he's mesmerized, because really, he can't stop this other sense, the one that knows what the kid is doing at all times, _feels_ him at all times and it's just fucking sad, really) even though most of his attention is on the play, there is a little part of him, out of the corner of his eye, that is conscious of what the kid is doing.

And the kid isn't paying any attention to the play (there's a work of art being created right in front of them, and what kind of an idiot must he be, Leo doesn't understand can't get the impulse that makes the kid turn away) – his eyes are only on Leo.

Leo can tell he's smiling. Not that (crinkly smile that still gets to him, even though it's been a _year_ and he should be desensitized by now) it shows on the kid's lips, no – he's smiling with those (bright bright so damn lovely even in the dark) eyes, they're shining (as they devour Leo with their gaze).

Then Jean Valjean is there, a long soliloquy whispered to the audience, and (it's the only thing that's ever, so very captivating that he can't even) Leo is no longer conscious of the kid's eyes on him. All he can do is stare in rapt attention (and he knows his eyes are wide, his mouth slack-jawed and open, but he's never _seen_ ) as the words that have whispered so long in his heart have been uttered aloud.

Later, his eyes fill with tears (and he can't hide those, either, even though he feels like a sap and wishes he could hide his weakness) as the then-old Valjean dies. Taken away (like everyone is, like his dad was before his time and damn it if he'd just had one more month – ) from his daughter, the man he'd saved.

The curtain falls. Polite clapping, appropriate for polite society (but somehow it pisses him off, because after a performance like that they deserve more than the standard applause) and so he stands. He doesn't care if the (fucking uptight pricks) people surrounding him think him a country bumpkin (he is from Georgia, after all, where manners still exist and he's going to be a shining example if it kills him) he's going to show his appreciation for the play.

The kid glances around them, at the offended looks the Captains and Ladies are shooting Leo, and he bursts into laughter. Exploding up from his chair, he is standing beside Leo (and Leo could kiss him right there, just for that if he didn't have so many other reasons) and cheering at the top of his lungs when the actors appear to take their bows.

Afterwards, when the audience is dispersing around them (but Leo still can't pull himself away, standing there like an idiot and staring at the curtain as the scenes replay themselves in his mind's eye) they wait for the lobby to clear. And he (doesn't want to leave, never wants this night to end) waits patiently, his hands slipping into his pants pockets as he turns (finally able to tear his eyes away, though somehow it hurts. But the balm of those eyes on him, that will make it all better –) to face the kid.

A (real, unfettered expression on his face, and he's ashamed to let it show but the kid has earned it after what he's done for Leo) wry half-smile on his face as he runs his fingers through hair that has been carefully gelled into place.

The kid chuckles softly at the expression, his hand going to Leo's shoulder as (what the hell, he can't not that close it'll be the death of him someday) he leans in, his breath (so warm and comforting, but it starts a sharp pain in Leo's heart because he wants to feel it every damn day but doesn't dare ask) soft against Leo's ear.

"Happy birthday, Bones."

(*)

He can't help it (okay, he can but he doesn't want to and fuck if he's gonna start) but every time he sees her his teeth grind quietly in his jaw (and this is not a sign of anger, not ever, Leo doesn't _get_ angry). Thankfully, she has a vastly different schedule then him or the kid, so it doesn't happen very often (but when it does he's always afraid he'll crack one of his teeth).

Not that he can blame the kid. With that skin, and those eyes, that long pony tail, he can see why the kid is so besotted (and damn it, why did it have to be a girl? Couldn't Leo catch any fucking breaks, and at least get an idea that someday something may be – never mind) that he fawns over her whenever she's nearby.

That haughty look would have turned Leo off (if he'd even bothered to begin with) but it doesn't seem to have any effect on the kid. He watches as the kid reaches out, and tugs gently (always so careful, like he knows that people are breakable and has this innate sense of what not-to-do) on the fall of hair cascading down her back.

She turns (her hair flaring out and it's beautiful, she's beautiful and damn it, it makes Leo's heart hurt to see the both of them together cause he's the sun and she's the night and it makes so much damn sense) and they trade barbed comments with each other.

Leo turns away (not in anger, never in anger cause that would be coveting something he can never have and he's not that much of a masochist), his eyes alighting on their instructor. The Vulcan-Human hybrid (who he's dying to get scans on, because the way he was genetically engineered is a master-work of revolutionary medicine and it makes Leo's brain cry out in desire) is still droning on about his lecture (interspecies ethics, and how useful is this _really_ going to be to a doctor – he just needs to know how to fix em, not how to fucking _get along_ with them) but his eyes….

The half-Vulcan's eyes are watching the pair beside Leo. His own eyes widen in amazement (cause it's only the briefest millisecond, but _he caught it_ and a curling of suspicion unfurls itself) as he tries to tell what the instructor is looking at.

Not the kid. Line of sight would lead Leo to…her (and isn't this interesting! And he was under the impression that the green-blooded hobgoblins didn't have emotions, but that certainly looked like a flash of emotion to him).

And then (he wants to crow aloud, because it would solve all of his problems with her, because – and he stops that thought before it can grow to fruition) he catches a sliding of her eyes, knowingly, down past the intervening bodies – meeting the half-Vulcan's in the barest touch of gazes.

She reciprocates (and now he really does feel like cheering, because if she and he then the kid is free) and Leo can tell that she's not even paying any attention to the easy banter between her and the kid, all of her focus is intent on the lean form in front of them, standing perfectly still as he speaks.

But he doesn't know if the kid will be hurt, if he has his heart set on her cause Leo knows he's been chasing her for over a year (and that breaks his heart, every fucking time he thinks about it cause nobody ever chased him even half that long) and doesn't know how the kid will react to the inevitable.

Then he really looks at the kid, watches the interactions between the kid and her (and he can't help the little sigh, even though he tries to make it as low as possible because somehow, irrationally, it makes him feel better) and sees.

The casual way he talks to her, no (signs of intensity, focus) indication that he wants anything more from her than this. Watches as the kid leans back in his chair, a faint smile hidden in the depths of those (too knowledgeable by far) bright blue eyes.

Cause the kid is looking at what Leo saw, observing the silent byplay between the two participants. But unlike Leo (who, really, is too dense sometimes and why couldn't he see the obvious right before his eyes?) the kid is acting like he's known about this forever, that he's watched the thing happening between she and he since the infant stages.

Considering (who the kid is, so fucking brilliant it makes Leo's head spin, and even if he did – there's no way in the seven hells he'd feel that way for someone pathetic and broken like Leo) what Leo's seen before, it's entirely possible that he has.

(*)

Sometimes he wishes he could get a break (and he knows everyone does, but he really _really_ needs one) but there's no way. If anything, he should be working harder than he is (but there just aren't enough hours in the day) if he wants to stick to his timeline.

And always, at the back of his mind (and sometimes in the foreground, cause this is big) he wonders how he let the kid convince him. But somehow it happened and he's on the same crazy schedule the kid is (cause he doesn't want to be left behind, no never left behind not again), on the fast track to graduate in three years instead of the standard four.

He's just lucky (not grateful, no, even though that word stings less and gets used occasionally these days) that he'd already finished all of his medical schooling. But that still leaves all the Starfleet required courses (like this fucking Interspecies Ethics class, but he already knows why he hates this one and it has less to do with the girl now) and gaining the necessary xenobiological information.

The only benefit he's been able to see (or the only one he's able to admit to himself, even though it's just barely) is that the expedited schedule means the kid needs to study as much as Leo does. And that they (most of the time, and it makes Leo's heart swell in pain cause only about half their classes are the same now, and fuck if he doesn't miss the kid more than he should) will bounce ideas off each other, cram together as much as they're able.

Like now (and maybe for this one he really is grateful, and for that damn Interspecies Ethics course of all things) when they're in the cafeteria, surrounded by people but focused only on each other (ok, maybe on the texts laid open before them, but it's _together_ , damn it) as they go over their latest assignment.

Their meals are (for the most part forgotten, ignored) beside them, their focus instead on the PADD of information they're processing. While the kid is distracted with a particularly tangled question, Leo (risks a glance, even though if he gets caught the kid will kill him) checks to make sure everything on the kid's plate is edible by him.

He's gratified to see the tomatoes are pulled out of the sandwich, and that anything else that could trigger a (terrifying, and why the fuck does the kid's immune system hate almost everything?) allergic reaction has been safely put to the side.

That is, until he notices the chocolate bar placed (tenderly, like it's something precious and the kid is treasuring it) on the kid's tray. Not that chocolate is bad (surprisingly enough, small miracles at work once again) but there are definitely peanuts in that brand of bar.

A sharp scowl appears on his face, as he glares (this one completely warranted, and he's not ashamed) at the offending piece of candy.

An even sharper question (this one more than intended, and he mentally kicks himself in the ass for it), as he brings attention to said candy.

"But, Bones! They barely ever have those, and I haven't had one in so long!."

And he has to bite down his tongue on his first comment (Leo doesn't have to remind the kid of _why_ he hasn't had one in so long, and that it's Leo that made him stop trying to accidentally kill himself) cause he shouldn't, and he goes with the safe reply instead.

"But you know what they'll do to you."

The kid shrugs, looks at the bar dejectedly (and it breaks Leo's heart, but he has to do it because damn it, it's his _job_ to keep the kid safe from everything especially himself) before putting it off to the side.

Satisfied (though the regret still tangles in his heart, even when he tells it in no uncertain terms that he doesn't _care_ ) Leo murmurs something about getting the kid a replacement one later (cause he secretly enjoys getting the kid presents, loves seeing the light shining out of those eyes as he gets treated with one of those crinkly smiles in reward) that doesn't have anything dangerous in it.

The kid seems to take that as an apology (and that makes Leo happy, even though it shouldn't, and he curses himself for his monumental stupidity), and they settle back into studying.

(*)

Several days later, and Leo is studying once again (all he fucking does is study, and he's not exaggerating at all with this) but this time in his dorm room. He's still got a room to himself (though this time it's a different room than last year, and he was surprised that it doesn't bother him quite so much anymore – the quiet has become something of a comfort) but there are several pictures of him and the kid (mementos he treasures possessively, though he'll never explain to the kid quite how much) on random surfaces throughout the room.

Like the desk he occupies, head bent as he diligently (but he's so damn tired, and it's late) studies for his linguistics test the next morning. This is, perhaps, his worst subject (oh, this he most definitely knows, but he doesn't really care) and he's been working on it for days (even foregone extra time with the kid, so he can pass and keep up always keeping up).

The knock on the door doesn't register the first time (the only way he can really tell its come more than once is when he does hear it – it sounds desperate, a sharp staccato beat against the wood) but when it does he rises quickly to open it.

To see the kid, who collapses into Leo's arms without a word (because he can't speak because, fuck, his throat is swollen and fuck what did he eat/do/breathe?) shaking and clinging to Leo (like he's a lifeline, and even though he's had many patients do that to him before, it's never felt quite like _this_ ) as he tries to gasp something out.

Thinking quickly (and oh god, is he grateful now for his brain, his mind that is so lightning fast and can process things even without him consciously directing it. Cause right now he just feels like a gibbering mass of terror but that's not what he displays) he deposits the kid on the floor and rushes to his desk. He keeps the med kit open (cause fuck if this isn't the first time the kid's appeared out of nowhere, damaged in some way and needing immediate attention) and pulls out the necessary hypo without needing to look for it.

He lifts the kid's head off the floor, shifting him so his neck is exposed (that fine neck, so strong and elegant and he always hates it when he has to mar its surface but it's necessary) and stabbing it swiftly.

A moment (oh god, fucking tense and just fucking _breathe_ kid, _breathe_ ) passes in silence, Leo not moving (frozen, heart in his throat) as he waits. And then the kid's airways must have cleared just enough, as he takes in a (big, beautiful) gasp of air into his lungs, and the (nasty, too ugly for words) color on his face fades marginally.

But it's not enough, Leo knows that, and he has to get the kid to the clinic so he has more resources (he can't leave him here, the hypo is just a stopgap measure and he _has_ to get that airway cleared completely before the kid's body gets vicious again cause it's gonna happen) and is better equipped to help.

His mind already made up, he scoops the kid up in his arms (the kid's head is curled up against his chest, and the warmth does a bit to ease the worry clutching Leo's heart, as do the soft gusts of heated breath he can feel through his T-shirt) and exits his dorm – toeing the door shut behind him.

As he makes his way through the darkened pathways to the clinic (and now he really _is_ grateful, fuck if sometimes he hates that word and everything it stands for, it's appropriate for this place and time) he knows so well, from so many late-night returns, his mind is momentarily free to wonder how the kid got in this situation. Again.

A niggling feeling in his gut (that he knows is true but hopes to hell isn't) tells him that it's that chocolate bar. Doesn't remember the kid throwing it away (and curses himself, knowing he should have thrown it away _for_ him, cause he knows the kid has no self control), knows that eventually (though it's been days, which should make him proud but he can't be not after this) the kid would have given in and eaten his treat.

And then any thoughts of actions and consequences stop, as a weak hand brushes feather-light against his chest.

"Bones…."

The kid presses his face against Leo's chest (and he must be able to hear how that makes Leo's heart beat, what he does to Leo and Leo can't fucking stand it sometimes).

Leo makes shushing noises, whispers for the kid to rest, that they'll be at the clinic in just a second where he'll (like he always does, because he can't help it, because he l– ) patch him up and everything will be good as new.

Trusting him, the kid curls closer in Leo's arms (and this fucking breaks his heart, the last barriers he tried to hold in place crumble to pieces under the onslaught) and, miraculously, falls into a light slumber.

Not amazed in the least when his arms are trembling (cause who would he be kidding, anyway, if they weren't?) he manages to shift the kid so he can hold him even closer, tucking the kid's head under his chin (and his hair feels so unbelievably _soft_ that Leo never wants to let him go).

Then, because it's safe (for the moment anyway, the kid's soft still-too-shallow-by-far breathes telling Leo he can get away with it) he tilts his own head down and presses a kiss (feather light, because he wants to kiss other places so damn much but he mustn't can't never) against the top of the kid's head.

And let's his feet (who know the way) carry them onward.


	3. The Third Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I apologize in advance for the angst. I wasn't expecting it to come out like this, but Herman (my evil plotbunny of DOOM) had his ideas on how this chapter was supposed to go, and I learned long ago not to question him.

**A/N:** I apologize in advance for the angst. I wasn't expecting it to come out like this, but Herman (my evil plotbunny of DOOM) had his ideas on how this chapter was supposed to go, and I learned long ago not to question him.

 ****

* * *

 **The Third Touch

* * *

**

It's one of the only times they get to be together these days (their time, alone, even if they have to be studying but their schedules this year are just so damn demanding they don't have anything else) and Leo (can't stand, resents, is _furious_ though he's not allowed to show it) the intrusion.

Of the two of them. The girl who is the night (who he's actually grudgingly gotten to like, and even more surprisingly _respect_ , not that he'd admit it to the kid) and her new roommate. They've intruded on their (his and the kid's, not that he can really call it that but it's always been precious and enjoyed but obviously more by him cause the kid doesn't seem to have a problem with their presence) table, setting down their own books and trays and settling in (like they belong, own the place).

And (in Leo's eyes, at least) that's not the worst of their crimes. The (green one with the hair of fire, her appearance startling but somehow pleasing all soft curves) roommate has stolen the kid's attention (ripped it right out of Leo's grasp, and there's nothing he can do he's incapable of protesting and _fuck_ does it hurt) and they sit (touching, and playing with each other, testing to see if they're compatible) flirting like there's no one else in the world.

So all he can do is sit and (scowl, feel the lines of his face harden, his brows knitting together in an expression he hates) stare at his food, picking at the mashed potatoes (cause he no longer feels like talking, no longer feels like he belongs and he's _hating_ this) while he tries to ignore the chatter tossing back and forth between the kid beside him and the emerald beauty across the table.

That is, until a pointy-toed boot (most definitely feminine footwear, no men's shoes ever feel quite like that and he's had lots of experience with footwear connecting with his shins) taps against his leg under the table. He glances up (unable to keep the surprise from his face) and stares into the dark eyes of the midnight beauty.

She smiles at him (like she knows something, but Leo knows he's been discreet and fuck he hopes the kid doesn't suspect cause that would just make this worse) and asks him a question.

It takes a moment for her words to register, but then he grasps onto the (welcome, oh how welcome) distraction she offers, and tries to ignore the pair beside them. But then the emerald lips open in a tinkling laugh, and the kid reaches out a hand (he can see out of the corner of his eye and fuck – he _hates_ ) to brush a curl from her cheek (and Leo takes the hilt of that dagger and shoves it further in, lets the pain take hold so he _remembers_ cause this is why he never lets himself hope) earning the kid a smile.

That's when (perhaps the worst realization in, ever) hits him. He can't (take it out on the girl, hate hate hate her for everything she's done in the short amount of time she's been here) resent the girl for her presence. Her words, her attitude (her very state of being) is so sweet and innocent (and free, true, in away Leo had never believed possible until meeting her, still cannot wrap his head around) that he can't hold it against her.

Can't even blame the kid for wanting to be in her presence more (because he sees, he's not blind, he can tell how the kid is smooth and relaxed now in a way he's never been around Leo – and that's what hurts the most), would jump at the chance to be with her (hell, Leo probably would too if it weren't for this giant chip on his shoulder and the beat of his heart that calls for only the kid).

Then the dark one catches sight of someone over Leo's shoulder (and he can guess who it is, it's obvious, the way she lights up in that way that means – fuck, stop it) and she rises from her seat at the table.

Murmuring a goodbye to her roommate, and with a sympathetic squeeze to Leo's shoulder (is he really that obvious? Unacceptable, he has to correct his behavior before something immutable happens) before walking off. Leo follows her with his eyes (knowing he's not the only one – the girl is quite a looker, and not just a few heads in the cafeteria stop to stare as she walks by) as she goes up to the professor, and engages him in a discussion.

Leo's assumptions are confirmed when he sees her destination (and the quiet look of pleased surprise on the half-Vulcan's face) and he can't help but feel a pang of (jealousy, because she knows what she wants and she's going after it – like he'd never have the guts to) sorrow that he can never do the same. Not only (are her feelings quite obviously returned, mutual) is she headstrong and courageous, she is sure of herself (in a way Leo will never be, not unless it's with his work which is undeniably the only thing he's ever considered himself even decent at. Cause he sure as fuck doesn't know how to do relationships) and confident in her abilities.

As soon as he turns back to the table, he's reminded (slammed into reality, battered by the truth that hurts so fucking much he just wants to scream – but can't) again of what awaits him here. And he can't take it anymore (it makes him sick to his stomach, he can't finish his food anyway he might as well) so he stands.

"I'm goin' to finish my work in my room."

Both people seated turn and gaze at him (the girl's eyes curious, assessing, and he can see her nostrils widen as she takes in a deep breath – and the look of surprise and pity that flashes across her face. But fuck, he doesn't want her pity) but he doesn't look at the kid (can't look at the kid, afraid he'll show what he's feeling and he'd much rather have him as a friend than nothing at all) as he gives a (fake, so plastic-feeling, but what other choice does he have?) smile.

Then turns and (without a backward glance, because the sight of them together is too much for him to bear) exits the cafeteria.

(*)

It's no surprise when, the next day, Leo (can't work up the energy to, doesn't give a damn enough) is only half-hearted as they're practicing. He's not protesting the practice itself, no (he knows he needs this, it's one of the only things that makes him feel good about himself) he just doesn't feel (can't stand it, hates it but loves it and oh god he's so confused) up to being in the kid's presence.

And it's obvious the kid can tell (he keeps glancing over, his eyes questioning) though he's walking in eggshells around Leo (which just further pisses Leo off, where does the brat get off acting like that around _him_ , of all people?).

Until, finally, the kid has had enough, and he asks.

"Nothing."

Leo surprises himself with (his audacity, the pertinence because it's fucking obvious something's bothering him and it's ridiculous to deny it) his reply. It seems to surprise the kid as well, who gives him (a hurt, and oh damn especially now that cuts Leo to the core) look before turning away. Those (long slim fingers, beautiful like every precious part of the kid) hands ball into fists at the kid's side, and he continues the workout.

Somehow, the kid's refusal to push leaves Leo (abandoned, left to his own devices and he should really expect it cause he knows he's fucking useless and doesn't mean nothing to nobody) feeling hollow. And he takes a moment (to breathe, center himself and try to find his footing once again) before he begins punching the air again.

He's brought up short when a fist (flashes so close, the air whistling at the speed and it stops a millimeter from his nose cause the kid has control) appears in his face.

"Tell me."

"No."

Before he even registers movement (cause on top of his control, the kid has speed and power and fuck) he's on the ground, the kid straddling his hips (and oh _fuck_ don't think about that no no no no) and his arm's getting twisted.

"Tell me."

The words come out frustrated, and Leo (can hear, can _feel_ how much his silence is hurting the kid but he can't tell him the truth) can hear how close to desperate the kid is.

But he keeps his silence (there's really nothing to say, how the hell is he supposed to respond in a way that would sound even the least bit sane) and turns his head to the side, trying to ignore the slight twinge of pain in his arm.

A flinch must have appeared on his face, though, (cause the kid's expression whispers apology) his arm is released. And the kid (fuck fuck, _don't_ it hurts how can you how dare you –) leans forward, still on top of Leo, and rests his head on Leo's shoulder.

He doesn't move (he can't, cause if he moves even the tiniest muscle this thing inside him that's dying to come out will explode and there will be no turning back and _everything_ will be dust) just lies there, with his hands at his side, as the kid sighs against him (his weight feels so good and perfect, like it belongs, and damn how could he do this to Leo?).

"If it's Gaila…even if we start messing around, I'll never let it interfere with our friendship, Bones. Nothing means more to me than this."

The words make him sigh (And that's just it, isn't it? Friendship. That's all they'll ever have, all he'll be gifted with and damn it, it should be enough) and dampen his anger (like a bucket of cold water to his face, washing everything away until he's left an empty husk). Again, he can't blame the emerald goddess – or the kid (not even for the relaxed comfortableness from yesterday when the kid was in her presence), because he knows about the pheromones, and that the emerald beauty is nearly irresistible to Humans, but he's not quite sure why he wasn't affected (though he suspects it's because his heart is already tied to one person, but that person won't have him so it's not like it matters).

He even knows that any relationship with an Orion can never be permanent, that it's just moments of pleasure before both partners go their separate ways (and he also assumes that the kid knows this, cause the kid knows every and all things regarding the subject of sex) and he should be happy that the kid found someone (to touch, to have in that way cause Leo knows how broken the kid is inside even though he never speaks of it) to forget himself with for a while (and Leo certainly can't help if he wants that person to be himself).

But he (does the bigger thing, cause damn it, he's got no other choice) lets it go, makes it better (so the kid doesn't have to worry, because if there's one thing Leo wants to be steady and constant in the kid's life it's his knowledge that Leo will always be there) and pats the kid awkwardly on the back.

"That's all it was. I've gotten used to you, Jim, and didn't want you to disappear on me."

The smile (he's gifted with) then is radiant and relieved, and then the kid (so free and comfortable in his skin, grace personified) springs up, offering Leo a hand up.

He (wants to refuse, to prove that he can do it by himself but he's weak and needs that touch) grasps the offered hand, and gets pulled to his feet.

And they begin moving once again, on the same path but separate.

(*)

He rests his head against the window (and it doesn't even bother him that he's staring out _into space_ anymore), letting the kid's words wash over him. Over the last couple years he's taken plenty of shuttle rides (and somehow the kid always manages to make it so they go up on these test runs together, and not once has he ever let Leo focus on what's happening), so many in fact that he's mostly comfortable (at least in the shuttle, and on the ships themselves – but if he stops and thinks about breaches to the hull too long he starts to hyperventilate), all because the kid has kept up a nearly constant stream of reassurance. Somehow, he knows how much it helps (though Leo can never find the words to tell the kid how much it matters to him, how much the kid matters to him).

But today, the constant chatter is (more frustration than comfort, the words grating under Leo's skin) more irritating than anything. It's not that the kid is talking (no, Leo is always appreciative of that, loves to hear the kid's voice and to have the kid's undivided attention) it's more the topic the kid is talking about.

Because it's really just ridiculous, now. Leo knows (how important it is) how big of a deal the test is for the Command Track cadets, but he still (can't wrap his head around, falls short when he tries to quantify) the level of (obsession) focus the kid is expending on the project. From what Leo understands, it's not (supposed to be) to be beaten, but rather to teach the future Captains and Admirals what kind of sacrifices they might be forced to make (in real life, where it matters, when it's real people on the line and you have to choose between the greater good and what you really want).

He rolls his head to the side, staring at the (so beautiful when he's intent on something, when his eyes light up like that as he's thinking) kid beside him, who's lost in his strategies and isn't really paying attention to Leo at the moment anyway. Maybe (that's it, it has to be, why hadn't Leo thought of it before?) the kid just can't stand failing at anything. Leo's never seen him be anything _but_ perfect (but no, that's not exactly right. The kid doesn't do it on purpose, it's just as easy as breathing for him) and maybe the fact that he lost, and "people" died is driving him crazy.

That would make sense (insofar as Leo is able to ascertain, after all he might be a doctor but he's never been a mind reader, no matter how well he thinks he understands the kid) and would explain this extreme behavior.

Like how the kid is talking now (crazy talk, this is, and Leo wonders how the kid's instructors are handling this cause if Leo is getting more than an earful he's sure the instructors haven't _stopped_ hearing his reasoning) about not giving up – and going in a second time.

It's (fucking crazy, is what it is) really not unexpected, and Leo lets out a sigh. Somehow the kid has managed to work more practice in (even before he's been approved for a second go-round, cause this is the kid and he doesn't take no for an answer) and his nonexistent free time has become even more sparse (and this burns, burns like wanting, cause this means he has even _less_ time for Leo, but Leo takes comfort in the fact that he doesn't have time for the emerald goddess either – and Leo always comes _first_ ).

But that means this shuttle ride is the first time Leo's gotten to (stare at, even though it feels dirty now, after. After) sit and just talk with the kid, and it's gotten (monopolized) wasted on talk of something that Leo (doesn't give a damn about, can't comprehend) isn't interested in. He'd rather talk about anything but this (not that he'd ever tell that to the kid, cause he's so excited and focused and Leo would never admit that he's anything but overjoyed in the kid's presence).

So he (uses his own intellect, cause he can readily admit that he knows how to tackle a problem and find the best solution, and damn if he's going to waste all his precious time with the kid talking about this) inserts a (what he considers witty, but is quite obviously the opposite when the kid gives him that look) comment to break through the kid's monologue.

Who laughs (and at least he earned that, but it's barely more than a chuckle and he's rather disappointed in himself, in a humoring sort of way) and lets the change of subject occur.

As the banter (always with a touch of sadness, as Leo is never truly happy not anymore, not when he's so close and can never touch the way he wants to) takes place between them in earnest, the stars fly past behind the window.

(*)

He (finally gives in, after hours and hours of searching – so much that his feet ache and he swears he's covered every inch of campus and even beyond) gives up, and makes his way to his dorm (silent and empty and _knowing_ ) to wait.

If the kid wants to be found, he'll be found. Not that Leo (can stand the waiting, and the not-knowing, it's driving him crazy) can do anything otherwise.

He gets out his textbooks (and it's not like he hasn't been studying for so long he's forgotten how to do anything else, his brain so full of knowledge he considers useless he doesn't know if he'll ever feel normal again) and tries to do something productive while he waits.

Deciding on xenobiology (Vulcans, to be exact, because he still can't let go of the thought of dissecting that hybrid because his existence is purely _fascinating_ ) as something he can at least sink his teeth into, he settles down and lets time pass.

But he's (not so deeply in, intentionally keeping one ear open for) not so focused that, when the door (which had been locked, but he didn't expect it to stay so) slowly starts to creak open.

He stays still, (patiently but oh so impatiently) waiting in his chair at the desk, letting the kid come in at his own pace (doesn't want to scare him away, wants him to come, wants him to stay so he knows he's _safe_ ).

When he's finally inside, the door safely closed (and locked, which would make Leo chuckle at the absurdity if it wasn't under these circumstances) behind him, Leo takes in the sight of the kid in the low light from his lamp.

Disheveled, drunk (with the bottle still grasped between loose fingers, perfectly balanced and no danger of falling despite the kid's obvious inebriation) the kid stands, blinking at Leo in the half-light.

"Bones…."

And then he's falling forward, and Leo catches him, dragging him over to (his bed, the one he sees the kid in so many times while he's patching him up, and every time it makes him ache) the bed in the corner, letting the kid sink down.

But instead of falling onto the bed like he usually does, the kid leans towards him, wrapping his arms around Leo and nestling his head in the junction of neck and shoulder (so warm warm warm all hard planes and trembling flesh) and pulling him close.

"I hate this, Bones."

He doesn't know what (to think, if it's ok to breathe or will the kid discover and hate him forever?) to do, so he lets instinct take over and pats the kid awkwardly on the shoulder, holding him (but not too close, trying to make it feel like friend to friend or brother to brother, instead of the way he really wants to hold this perfect, broken person). He knows what today is (even though he never asked, never needed to – he's never given a damn, it doesn't change who the kid is, what he means, as a person, to Leo) knows how hard it is for the kid. And how hard everyone else makes it, this (godforsaken, damned holiday that doesn't make any fucking sense and how could they even _think_ this was fair to the family this day destroyed?) "Remembrance Day."

"I know, Darlin', I know."

His heart, quite literally, stops (fuck. Did he just say that out loud? Shit shit shit what the _hell_ was his tongue thinking, to let that slip out?) as the kid freezes in his arms. Even drunk, the kid must have heard (and must know now, and everything is lost, he'll never want to see Leo again and Leo will be broken and bleeding and empty for the rest of his days).

A full minute goes by, before either of them moves (Leo too terrified to even contemplate it, and the kid – he has no fucking idea what the kid is thinking) and then, it's only the kid burping quietly against his shoulder.

And then he yawns, and asks (the question that breaks Leo's heart, shatters it into thousands of pieces because he l—).

"Bones, can I stay here tonight?"

His (heart swells, cause he can't help it, and he knows it's innocent but still) voice (surprising Leo, cause he could have sworn it wasn't possible) doesn't crack when he says yes.

The kid gets to his feet (wobbly, cause there's too much alcohol in his system, but still able to stand on his own) and strips before Leo (can make any move to stop him) can comprehend exactly what's going on. He certainly can't turn away (cause that would be fucking obvious, make things even more awkward than they are, and he's just fucking glad the kid is drunk and hopes he won't remember any of this in the morning), so instead he just keeps his eyes on the kid's face. And he can't help but (breathe a little easier, cause he wouldn't know what to do if the kid hadn't kept them on) sigh when the kid doesn't touch his boxer-briefs. Then the kid is crawling back into the bed (on top of the sheets, and _why_ does he insist on tormenting Leo so?) and falling bonelessly into a sprawl.

Leo shifts from his position on the bed, ready to go to the desk and continue his studying (cause he sure as hell can't stay here, not with the kid like that cause he doesn't know if he has that kind of control). When a hand reaches out to him.

"No, Bones, stay…."

And the kid (must not know what that sounds like, doesn't comprehend can't comprehend he's too drunk to know any better) is already half asleep, his words coming out as nothing more than a mumble.

But he can't ignore it (any more than he can ignore the pounding of blood in his ears) and he slips back into the bed, lying down next to the kid (in his sweats still, cause he's not going there this is fucking crazy as it is).

Then there's an arm stretched out towards him, strong fingers tangling in his sleeve (clinging, this kid that has tangled himself just as effectively in Leo's heart, and Leo doesn't have it in him to untangle either), then the kid drifts off into slumber.

Leo settles back into the bed, and (because he's human, damn it, and he can't help himself) takes the opportunity to observe the warm form beside him (cataloging every hard line and the delicate tracing of scars, wanting to know the story behind each one but knowing he'll never get the chance to ask) as the kid sleeps.

And he knows, can no longer deny it to himself (what the kid is to him and what the hell is he thinking he needs to stop this thing of his before he gets in trouble but he can't he can't) as he watches (as if outside his body, no control he wants to so badly and he just can't help himself) his fingers move, of their own accord.

They start at the kid's face (beloved, damnit, and it's cutting him into tiny pieces), brushing gently against eyebrows and cheekbone. Then his finger tips trace across that jawline (the one he's always wanted to coat with kisses) and then the hollow of the kid's neck. Down, further, across pectorals that are still tense (even in sleep, and it reminds Leo again what hell the kid must have gone through this day, alone), following the line of a scar that would be invisible but for the tanned skin.

He lets it stop in the light trail of curls that begin at the kid's belly button and travel downward (he can't go any further and still look at himself in the mirror, he really shouldn't have gone this far but he can't help himself) letting one of the tight curls wrap around his index finger.

Then his hand (of its own volition still, cause if he was even half listening to his brain he'd be all the way across the room long before now) lifts once more, wrapping itself around the fingers tangled in his sleeve (and it's probably just his imagination, but it feels like that grip is a little tighter on him and it makes his throat tighten painfully).

Listening to the kid breathing (calm and deep, not like that night that feels so long ago now when that breathing almost stopped for good), his eyes watch the shadows playing across the kid's (achingly beautiful, like every single piece of him) face before he finally drifts into slumber himself.


	4. The Fourth Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Only two more Touches to go after this one XD

**A/N:** Only two more Touches to go after this one XD

 ****

* * *

 **The Fourth Touch

* * *

**

He cannot comprehend (this is fucking ridiculous, and his patience has worn out and he's had it up to _here_ ) what the kid is thinking, not with this. It wasn't bad enough the first time (when any sane person would have given up), the kid had to go in for a second (cause the one thing Leo never attributes to the kid is sanity, and he just likes proving Leo right every damn day) – and then when _that_ failed, there was this (wonderful little surprise, wasn't it? And he didn't tell Leo on purpose until it was too late, cause he knew what Leo's opinion was going to be on the matter) ridiculous, pathetic third attempt.

And for some reason, Leo was (invited to watch the freak show, the fireworks) put down as a crew member for this most recent attempt. He didn't know if he should (laugh in the instructor's face) decline, as he wasn't in the mood to see the kid hurt again, but decided that since the kid (had wanted him there, somehow, still wanted Leo present even after all this time) had gone through all of the trouble to (hack the system and get his name put on the list) get him cleared to work it, he should see it through to its (bloody) end.

But he doesn't have to (pretend he's enjoying himself, because he can't, just waiting for the kid to fail and be broken and frustrated once again) be enthusiastic about being here. It's ridiculous (truly, it is) – the kid had even told Leo (after the second attempt, when they'd been sitting alone on the roof with just a bottle of Scotch between them) that he knew the test was unbeatable (that it'd been fucking _programmed_ that way, and how the fuck do you counter that?) but he didn't care. That the kid wasn't going to take loss as an acceptable conclusion (and what the hell was _that_ supposed to mean?).

Leo had not (in his wildest dreams) thought that, at that moment, the kid had already decided he was going in for his third (and oh, please, make this the final time, he can't fucking take any more of this up and down shit) try. But here they are, the kid sitting in the mock command chair (looking fucking amazing in that skin tight uniform, like he has no right to be, tempting but so far out of reach he might as well be on fucking Mars) eating an apple (like he has no fucking care in the world, or like he hasn't spent the last six _months_ calculating exactly how he is going to beat this thing).

It makes Leo nervous (as it should – that cockiness bodes well for nobody, least of all Leo) because there is just something off about that attitude. He can't (hopes, but he suspects and it worries him cause the kid shouldn't piss off his instructors like this) imagine that the kid acted like this the other two times he took the test (but it makes perfect kid-sense that he would).

And, apparently, Leo is not the only one put off by the kid's behavior. The whole mock crew is (giving him funny looks, unsettled) confused by the kid's attitude (cause it certainly doesn't seem that he's taking this seriously, as he should). Especially the one who is night, who is (gloriously, beautifully, and Leo is thanking her so much in his head he wants to kiss her, or something else equally ridiculous) giving him attitude right back. And Leo can't blame her (he _likes_ this girl, he really does) because she's getting the brunt of the kid's cockiness (though it seems that, over the years, she's learned how to handle him and gives as good as she gets).

Everything else (besides the kid's behavior, of course, because that always fucking defies logic) goes as expected, the scenario plays out (doomed before they even "arrived," and Leo is happy this is just a simulation cause even the simulation makes him ache from the pain of knowing there's no hope) and the Birds of Prey surround them.

Then, just as everything is going to hell (like it always does, cause it can't fucking do anything else, it's _programmed_ to do this) something (fucking unbelievable, insane) happens. All (every fucking computer system) the lights flicker, and turn off – then turn right back on again (and he checks his panel, just to be sure, cause there's no way in hell that happened during the middle of the simulation these things are on a closed circuit, even _he_ knows that).

A command from the kid, that (at first seems impossible but then is undeniably correct) Leo never expected to hear. And the Birds of Prey are turned into dust.

The kid (satisfied, sated, looking all smooth and spent like he must be after – after things Leo isn't allowed to think of any longer) settles back into his command chair, and takes a bite out of his apple. But not before (the cocky fucking bastard, so beautiful so fucking amazing) he turns and gives Leo one of those (just for him, never anyone else and Leo treasures them still even though each and every one just adds to his plethora of scars) crinkly smiles.

And Leo can just stare back (stunned, mesmerized, can't see anything but the kid and what he just accomplished) too amazed to give the kid (the reaction he's looking for) anything but dumbfounded surprise.

He beat it (and Leo knows it was those fucking hacking skills, somehow, but that doesn't tarnish this moment one bit, because) – the kid did it.

(*)

He's filled with trepidation as he follows the string of students to the (musty, hardly used and this does _not_ look good no way no how) assembly hall. It's been several days since that (crazy, pulled-out-of-the-kids-ass) third attempt, and if the ball was going to drop it'd be now.

The kid (as usual) does not suspect anything but the best (and is he fucking rambling about a fucking commendation? For what? Being the most idiotic bastard to fly through the Academy in three years instead of the regular four?) for the assembly (flying high on his daydreams, and Leo hopes to god he's wrong and the kid is right), as he walks at Leo's side.

He doesn't (fucking stop) lapse into silence until he has to, when the (whole fucking class, like it's rehearsed but it's not and it gives Leo the heeby-jeebies not that he'd admit it to anyone) assembly hushes around them in the same instant.

At the Admiral's words (Leo's worst fears are made into reality) Leo can visibly see the kid falling apart beside him. The (worst thing of all) emotion most vivid in the kid's eyes is betrayal (and Leo wants to hold him, wants to whisper everything will be all right but he can't promise that doesn't know can't do that not now not ever). This is where the kid feels like he belongs, where his skills are valued (and Leo wants to fucking kill them, every single one of them for crushing the kid like this – don't they know who he _is_? Perfect, unique, brilliant and never ever deserving of this) and Leo knows he can't comprehend the (giant backhanded slap to the face) reprimand, the purpose for the entire trial itself.

But he gets up there (and Leo wants to go up too, to be with him and defend him even though it's not his place and never will be) and faces the accusations head-on.

Even faces his accuser (that fucking half-Vulcan, and Leo _really_ wants to dissect him now – without any anesthesia, and with no intentions of putting him back together again after, no matter if the dark one would eat his balls for breakfast for it) with his usual (cocky) attitude back in place. Fires back (beautiful, and Leo wants to cheer cause if he can keep it up he might have a chance), trouncing logical argument with logical argument (and did he just call the hobgoblin _Spork_? Leo knows the kid is perfectly aware of the Vulcan's name, that must be on purpose and ohhh Leo hopes it rankles under the bastard's skin _cause he knows the bastard can feel_ ).

But then the kid loses ground, faltering a few steps as (how could he? That asshole needs to die, and now Leo is going to use rusted old instruments instead of his clean sharp ones) the instructor cuts with words (where he has no business cutting and fuck Leo can't take standing here and watching this happen).

It's not enough (cause no matter what the kid claims about it not being fair, the fact remains that he cheated and – shit) and the flow of the hearing is getting away from the kid (Leo can see the fear in his eyes, knows it's mirrored in his own because _fuck_ he can't exist – not here, not nowhere else either – without the kid by his side) and leaning towards him being banished (from the only home he's ever really had, and Leo knows he'll follow even if he has to throw everything away cause damn it _he's_ worth it) from the Academy on charges of academic dishonesty.

Then the interruption (of the fucking century, that's what it is. Absolutely fucking perfect timing, and Leo couldn't give a damn what actually caused it cause it gives the kid time to regroup and think of a way to _fix_ this like Leo knows he can), everyone filing out and disappearing (dashing to the shuttles, like Leo should be too but he's too busy staring down at the podium).

Except the kid, who seems frozen where he stands (too stunned to move, Leo suspects, but he _has_ to), still staring at the dais the Admirals recently vacated.

"Come on, kid."

He reaches out and (greatly daring, but his voice didn't do anything and fuck if he'll just leave the kid here) brushes an elbow with a fingertip, trying to (break the spell the kid's under) get him to react.

And then they're moving, rushing headlong (towards something that feels and tastes and smells kindof like destiny though Leo can't untangle the sense or the threads to make it any more concrete than that) towards the shuttle bay and their assignments.

Except the kid doesn't have one (and what fucking bullshit is this? Grounded until the trial is finished? It's not _going_ to be finished, you asshole, not if everyone is up in space!) and Leo stands, indecisive (the kid told him to go, basically ordered him to – and now he's frozen stuck between –) as the students flow around them.

He can see it in the set of the kid's shoulders (dejected, lost, abandoned once again like always and _fuck_ ) and the cant of his head (the cockiness that he tries to project but so obviously doesn't feel). And Leo's mind is made up for him (and really, who is he kidding when he thinks he ever truly had a choice between the two?) as an idea bursts, fully formed, into his mind.

"Come on, kid."

And he disappears into the flow (dragging the kid behind him, who is still too stunned and confused to realize that Leo has A Plan) of people, places and things.

Because if Leo ever has to make a choice (between love and duty, action and consequence) the kid is always, always going to win.

(*)

He is frozen, undone. Unable to do anything but watch, eyes stretched wide as saucers as the giant maw opens – right in the middle of Sickbay. It is as he always imagined, in his worst nightmares, the monolithic emptiness pouring in and then sucking everything out –

Like the previous CMO. Gone in less than a breath, less than a moment, sucked into nothingness while Leo can do nothing not even scream.

Then the emergency barricade fastens air-tight, automatically sealing the breach and closing everything that is supposed to be outside, outside.

And he can (breathe again, exist again cause fuck fuck fuck fuck) think again, even if it's just to stutter and gasp as the adrenaline spikes through his system (burning his veins, but he's torn between fight and flight and even his lizard brain can't decide) and he can't put two thoughts together.

Desperation (and fear, the fear overwhelming everything else and oh god oh god oh god it's real) clouds his thought processes (reducing him to nothing but _need_ , but amazingly enough not to run and hide but to run and find – him) makes it impossible for him to piece himself back together again as (the all-encompassing overwhelming devouring him whole) terror fights with tooth and claw to stay.

There's a hand around his arm (squeezing and shaking and why the fuck won't the woman leave him alone so he can get back to himself), the voice attached to it screaming something in his ear.

But he can't hear (anything above the blood pounding in his ears, the desperate _need_ for comfort, for safety that the kid brings and and and) what the woman is calling, can't even really register that she needs him.

Then he remembers (where he is, who he is, especially who he is _now_ , with the previous CMO reduced to dust in the – don't think don't think don't think) what he needs to do, what he needs to get the others to do (cause the kid is out there, and the kid will need him and and and breathe) because there are going to be injured incoming and they have to be prepared.

News filters down as they work (fixing those they can, making those comfortable who they don't need to or don't have the time for yet), what happened, what _is_ happening – and what the kid is doing (and others, but the other two are just names no faces and even if they had one it wouldn't be the kid's so they don't fucking matter anyway), and Pike.

His (heart enters his throat and refuses to move, choking him with terror) concentration just isn't there as he works on his patients but he has to push through it (and ignore, ignore cause this is important and he needs to be _here_ for them this is his job his home his life) and work.

So he forces himself to work (even though it kills him, and some tiny piece of him that no matter what he tries he can't put to task) mending broken bones and broken skin (but knowing he can do nothing for broken hearts, as they cry tears of blood around him for their classmates, friends, and loved ones) as best he can with the resources they have left.

Even though his body is present, and his fingers fly in their work (here and now, working fixing saving) his mind is somewhere else. It's been long enough, now, and the kid is falling through space (a fucking _space jump?_ Captain for how many fucking years, and the best Pike can come up with is a hare-brained scheme that involves _space jumping_ onto a fucking _miniscule platform?_ ) in nothing but (so thin so vulnerable, but it's the only thing that protects the kid and Leo prays to whoever's listening that it does its job otherwise there will be hell to pay) a jump suit.

He knows the kid doesn't share his fear, (this debilitating thing, but fuck if anything was going to take the kid from him it'd be this) and is probably loving every second of the rush right now (but it's killing Leo and he can't take it and he has to _know_ ).

Just as he's about to (give in, fuck it all, he has to know or he'll be no use to nobody cause his heart will explode from worry and there will be one more patient among far too many) go over and press the button for the intercom, it crackles to life.

No announcement, no officer asking for a status report. Everything in the Sickbay stops (for just a moment, a single solitary moment that crystallizes as everyone collectively holds their breath) as they listen to the transmission getting piped down. Leo can't (help but, his pain and terror receding for just a second as they're eclipsed by love) smile fleetingly as he listens (cause he knows who's responsible, and thanks the dark-haired one in his brain for her gift, for her knowing and offering and easing his pain) to the sounds.

The kid is alive. Leo listens as they fall, (tumbling and plummeting through something so terrifying Leo can't even comprehend it) making it into the atmosphere (and he can breathe again, knowing that the worst of it is over – at least in his eyes) and further. One of them (one of the faceless ones, the people who are just numbers and letters unless they're in front of him and then they're bones and tissue and ligament) doesn't make it, his own (stupidity, the sound of his overzealous voice still buzzing in Leo's ears) mistake leading to his destruction.

But Leo only half hears, his attention (not needed, he knows that the kid is _safe_ the yawning emptiness of space did not swallow him forever) focused once again on the patients before him.

Focusing on the patients is safe (cause he's terrified now, for a completely different reason, because while he'll always be the kid's friend the fear he felt certainly wasn't for a friend and fuck he'd thought he'd abandoned that hope a long time ago), and distracts him from the (far too frustrating by half emotions clutching at his belly, crying out that he loves loves loves even though he doesn't want to hates that he does) events outside the Sickbay.

(*)

He's (so fucking exhausted it hurts to breathe, to think, but he has to he doesn't have a choice) so tired he can barely move, but he manages. Moves from patient to patient (so many of them empty, like most of his team members, broken for their lost classmates and the whole fucking _world_ that vanished before their eyes) administering what care he can (or just a touch, a word, when he's already done everything he can for their bodies).

Because he's moving in a daze (grateful, some part of him, that part that begs and pleads inside his skull but is now firmly insulated by exhaustion) Leo doesn't notice the person blocking his path until he's nearly trampled him. Raising his eyes from the PADD he was skimming for new information, he meets those (the blue dimmed, almost eclipsed by the bloodshot sclera) eyes before him.

A cocky grin (and Leo can easily tell that's for the benefit of those around them, cause the kid knows he can read the bone-deep exhaustion and the slight trembling in his limbs that mean he's about to collapse on himself) as a question tumbles out. And it (takes a second, cause Leo can see those lips moving but there's no words coming out, but then they finally filter through) pains Leo to give the answer he does, but he doesn't have any choice (and why does the kid look at him like _that_ , like he knows – okay, maybe it's obvious why Leo doesn't have a room of his own anymore).

But then a thought occurs to him, and he leads the kid (away from the prying eyes, that are staring at him like they want to drink the kid down suck him into their soul and keep him with them forever – but he's _Leo's_ ) to the office off the Sickbay.

Into silence (and solitude, and it feels good to be just them, together, even if it's for just a moment and both of them are so drained their lizard brains barely remember how to breathe), where Leo closes the door behind them (so glad it's privacy glass, cause he doesn't want those eyes following the kid in here, where he should be as safe as he made them) and turns the lights down low (cause he knows how much the kid hates sleeping in the dark, can't stand it, has his nightmares and fuck if just a little bit of light doesn't make them go away).

Leads the kid (who isn't running his mouth anymore, keeping up appearances for all those people that depend on him, who he _saved_ – he's just an empty husk now that even stims can't keep moving) to the cot in the corner, where the kid collapses without a second thought.

Expecting him to be asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow (like Leo knows he wants to, would have been in a couple of hours too – but not now, cause his bed is full of kid and that cot is too fucking tiny for him to even consider sharing), Leo turns to leave.

Those (belied by their delicate-seeming bones as weak, thin and graceful but so so strong) hands reach out, and clutch (desperately, and Leo is reminded again of being a lifeline, a role he gladly accepts, always, without a thought) at his arm.

"Bones…don't go, please…."

Pleading, there (and what's he supposed to do? He can hear the broken, bleeding little boy inside and he can't just – ), that stops him in his tracks. Sighing, (and who is he kidding, anyway? He doesn't want to be anywhere but here, not after he came so close to losing the kid time after time in the last few days) he glances once more at the door (but they can handle anything that happens out there, and besides they know where to find him) and settling on the cot besides the kid.

The kid shuffles out of the way (automatically making room, his body shifting to allow Leo close like it knows him and wants him there and fuck it unlocks all that shit he's been able to ignore for days) on the cot, curling his body (so warm and full of life, even now when there's no energy left in those muscles) around Leo's seated form.

And he starts whispering (low enough where Leo can tell it's half-conscious, but loud enough where he knows the kid wants him to hear), telling Leo everything that happened while he was stuck in Sickbay (and how it made him feel, every single thing, and it breaks Leo's heart for him cause he's never needed to unload like this and oh god he's so weary). While he speaks, his hand reaches blindly for Leo (opening that wound, baring that part of Leo that Leo hates but can't deny, and everything from that damn space jump comes rushing back), grabs at Leo and clings to his hand.

Slowly, eventually, the kid's voice wears out and he starts to snore softly (and if Leo didn't know already, that would be for sure – the kid never snores unless he's bone-deep, dead on his feet) and Leo's trapped on the cot (cause there's warmth and trust wrapped around him like a blanket, a hand in his and fuck this is the only place he ever wants to be), tangled in the kid's limbs.

So Leo takes up the thread of conversation (cause he can't stand the silence, not now cause it makes those holes in him pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat) cause it's safe, and the kid can't hear what he says anyway. Whispering his own (telling the brilliant golden-haired one beside him what he never imagined admitting aloud, not even to a sleeping form) experiences while the kid was stuck on the Bridge.

While he speaks, his hand (the one that isn't clutching to, the one he still considers _his_ because that other one is obviously the kid's and he'll never ask for it back) strokes through blonde hair (so soft, even damp with sweat), down the cheek (where he can feel a trail of tears, even though he didn't hear them while the kid was speaking) and across a trembling shoulder blade (and Leo knows the kid is having nightmares, and hopes that somehow, irrationally, his words will bring the kid out of them) – then back to start again.

Leaning down (and he can't believe he's doing it, but it seems that between one moment and the next he made up his mind) he pauses, staring (but unseeing, amazed at the calm that fills him now, as opposed to the tumult that was his insides just minutes before) at eyelids shifting in REM sleep before he shifts (just a millimeter separating them, an insurmountable distance that no longer exists) forward and places a kiss on the kid's eyebrow, another on his cheekbone, the corner of his lips.

"I'm yours, Darlin'…always."

Now he just has to find a way to speak the words – when the kid is awake to hear them.


	5. The Fifth Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Slowly but surely, they tumble towards infinity. These 5 + 1 are cheats – you guys know when the ending is coming!

**A/N:** Slowly but surely, they tumble towards infinity. These 5 + 1 are cheats – you guys know when the ending is coming!

 ****

* * *

 **The Fifth Touch

* * *

**

He feels so (out of his element, like a warthog surrounded by gazelle) out of place on this ship. Not when he's (in _his_ place, his domain, where he rules and everyone respects him and his opinion even if not all of them particularly like him) in the Sickbay, or the mess hall (just everywhere else, including the hallways).

And he's not quite sure why (but he suspects, as he never really has felt comfortable with anyone or anything except the sick and injured – and the kid), but it (bugs the fuck out of him) bothers Leo, especially after weeks in the ship. He should be (better adjusted now, hell, the kid has been trying to get him to open up to others) able to interact with others. It's not like (he's a social deviant, or anything – okay, maybe he is cause he is in love with his best friend but it's not like that should affect any of his other relationships, right?) he doesn't want to to get along with them (but somehow it always ends up wrong, he starts thinking too much and everything messes up before it even starts), but it always seems that (the first thing out of his damn mouth, even though Leo doesn't plan on it) he can't be anything but gruff.

He really has been (trying, even though in the back of his head he can hear the kid laughing at him cause it hasn't been very hard) working on his (albeit limited) people skills. It's never a good thing (always a bad thing, in fact, which is why Leo's been trying) if the crew can't trust their CMO (but fearing is good. He likes fear, cause that means they'll listen to him and do what he says – except the kid, that is, who has his own ideas on this and everything else).

Which is why he is always surprised (amazed, befuddled, even though he shouldn't be cause this is buried somewhere in the official job description) that he ends up in these things. Leo can understand (the theory behind all this crap, anyway) why it might be a good idea to get all the department heads (and he guesses he counts as one of these, cause technically the whole Medical department is under him, though he often feels like they all, him included, report to Chapel) together, in one place for reporting purposes. But that doesn't mean he agrees with it (or enjoys it even the tiniest bit, hates it even and doesn't interact with anyone just sits and _glares_ cause damn it, he's good at that).

The (only fucking thing, really) good thing about it, at least, is that Leo gets to see the kid (cause who knew that being a captain would be a more-than-full-time job, or being a CMO for that matter?) and speak a couple sentences to him.

It's (really pathetic, and he'd laugh if he could summon any kind of entertainment from it) depressing if he thinks about it (which he does, every second of every damn day that isn't filled up with something else). Just when he (finally, cause it took three damn years as it was, but he can't really blame himself cause this was a _big_ fucking decision) decided to do something about it, they run out of time.

And now (that they're captain and CMO) they are far too busy to hang out (they had more time that last year at the Academy, when they were cramming a year and a half worth of classes into one semester), much less go over important, life-changing discussions (and Leo's still not sure how the kid will react, and he's afraid but not enough to change his mind).

So Leo (takes what he can get) sucks it up, and sits in the meetings. Listens to what the kid has to say (while drinking in the sight of him, like a man who'd just walked through a desert – with a broken leg, so it took an extra long time), and tries to appear awake for when the half-Vulcan (Hobgoblin. Evil. No matter what the kid says, Leo can't won't forgive him for what he did, both during the tribunal and the subsequent marooning) is speaking.

And he (bides his time, patient as a leopard in a tree) plans, and plots, and waits. Eventually (and he really hopes it's sooner rather than later, cause he's getting tired and doesn't think this pace can hold up for much longer) they will have a free moment together, (where it's just Leo and the kid and a bottle of the good bourbon) and he will say what he needs to.

(*)

He's not quite sure (flabbergasted, but still entertained) how he gets chosen for the away team. It's a (far too simple for them, an insult to the kid's intelligence and abilities but the Admiralty seems convinced that all they can handle for now are little milk runs) straightforward diplomatic mission (nothing more complicated than – "hello, we like you, join the Federation" with a completely peaceful and uninteresting species) that (the ensign who cleans the head) the kid could handle with no problems.

It certainly doesn't require that the ship's CMO be on the ground with it (though he's not gonna complain, cause Leo knows the kid is going, and he'll do anything to spend more time with the kid). And it might possibly (oh, it is, but he doesn't really care) be against regulations to have so much of the command team on the ground (cause there's him, and the kid, and that damn hobgoblin) all at the same time. But (stupider things have happened, especially when the kid is concerned) with the ease of the mission, there shouldn't be any danger.

Or at least that's what the kid promises him (and Leo can't really believe that, which is why he's glad he's coming along cause it's his _job_ to keep the kid outta trouble).

When they get down to the planet, it sort of reminds him of the Rocky Mountain area of America (though the colors and feel are slightly off, it still has the towering cliffs of rock and the general arid emptiness that is somehow beautiful) and he's no longer second-guessing coming along (because it's beautiful, and it's not _space_ and even though he tries to forget what's outside the ship sometimes he wakes up screaming, still) and settles in to enjoy himself.

And the aliens themselves are rather pleasant (though they remind him, oddly enough, of giant koala bears or maybe it's pandas) and even though the Universal Translators are working they're never exactly perfect (and how are they able to communicate that particular panda-thing has a lisp? Does it actually have one, or is the UT just malfunctioning again?) and it results in some entertaining misunderstandings.

Leo chuckles at the latest one, an easy smile around his lips and eyes (and he can't keep his eyes off the kid as he laughs, and it's a _real_ laugh, something Leo hasn't been lucky enough to see in weeks) as the panda-people give their own version of a giggle (and they're so damn adorable Leo wants to bundle one up and smuggle it on board. He's sure that crazy Scotsman would be happy to help him hide it).

Somehow he finds himself inching closer to the kid, (okay, it's not a surprise and it's not completely unintentional. So?) until their shoulders are almost touching. That's when he stops, (still not comfortable touching the kid without his permission, though the kid is allowed to touch Leo whenever he damn well pleases, and does so any opportunity he gets) and tries not to (be too obvious with his) stare.

And it's not like Leo (really has any reason to be here anyway, besides his own secret one of getting in some kid-time) has an integral role in the negotiations, anyway. So he is free to (indulge his desires, though he certainly can't do so to the extent he wants to) just enjoy watching the kid at work.

Cause the kid is truly amazing, and in his element (or one of them, as Leo has never seen the kid _not_ excel at something) as he flows in and out of conversations and slowly shifts things the way he wants them to go (so smoothly the panda-people don't even realize that they've agreed to all of his demands, and just to prove how awesome he is the kid manages to find out how to give them everything they want, too).

Then the kid is leaning forward (all focused like he gets, that light of enjoyment in his eyes and it's so beautiful to see) to look over the final draft of the treaty. Glancing over, (cause he can't help himself, he's already admitted he's obsessed he just tries to hide it as much as possible, until – well.) Leo can see that the collar of the kid's black undershirt is stuck underneath the hem of his command tunic.

Without thinking (because if he had been, he sure as hell wouldn't have) he reaches forward, and with a deft motion frees the collar (and his fingertips brush against skin and fuck the kid feels so warm).

The kid notices (how could he not?) and glances at Leo, another one of those (damn beautiful) crinkly smiles hovering around his eyes. A soft murmur of thanks, and he turns back to the treaty.

Leo can't think (and isn't it obvious that his brain is chasing itself in circles, it's ridiculous that the whole damn world including the kid never notice) around the lump of – something – in his throat (perhaps it's his heart, trying to violent expunge itself so he can hand it into the kid's safe keeping).

And he can't look away (never could, and isn't going to try anymore).

(*)

He can't believe it, (and he really should be used to it by now, expect it) he thought the kid knew what he was doing (but he should know better by now, Leo knows the kid never fucking has a plan beyond "wing it") when he dragged Leo out here.

In the middle of the desert (and at least they're not floating freely through space, but this has the potential to be just as deadly and they don't even know what kind of fauna are out here just waiting to suck down a delicious doctor or starship captain) in the middle of the day when the sun is hot (and making the kid sweat. He should _not_ look that good all slicked up and wet, not when he's near Leo).

But he can't blame the kid (cause he could have said no, could have ignored the light of hope that flashed in the kid's eyes) that Leo decided to follow his (hare-brained) scheme. He didn't have to agree to it, (even though he was dying to get away from the boringness and have some time to just be with the kid) leave the rest of the landing party (that fucking hobgoblin) behind and disappear into the wilderness surrounding the city (which had looked so beautiful and welcoming when they'd been gazing at it from the safety of the streets).

And the kid grew up in Iowa (and Leo in the warm southern regions of Georgia) so neither of them could have possibly known that as soon as the city was just a smudge on the horizon, it would be absolutely impossible to orient themselves in the desert landscape (no longer exciting and promising, instead full of death and angry creatures waiting to eat them). But Leo can blame the kid for waiting thirty minutes before finally admitting they were thoroughly lost (and wasn't Leo along to keep the kid _out_ of trouble? How the fuck did he think this was a good idea?).

He should have said something (cause it's not like he was paying attention to where they were going, himself, just following the kid with his eyes cause he couldn't help himself) when he noticed the kid was looking around them more than before. But he hadn't thought anything of it (hadn't been able to think anything at all, really, just watch and listen to the pounding of his blood in his ears).

It wouldn't have been too bad (the whole getting lost thing, cause really, it's happened before to the kid, even though they've been out here on this whole exploration mission thing for only a couple of months) if the other thing hadn't gone wrong (cause where the kid's concerned, one problem is never enough and Leo really should fucking know this by now).

The kid is standing in the dirt (next to something that would be a cactus, if this were Earth, but instead resembles some kind of angry petunia plant) and just staring at his communicator (like if he thinks hard enough it'll start to work, crackle to life and get them the help they actually need this time). It is quite possible that (were this an actual communicator issue, and not something with the damn frequency waves) the kid could fix anything mechanically wrong with the thing (or, they could just use Leo's, cause he brought his along too just in case but that's not working either) but he can't fix interference.

There's always interference (and Leo has had to include his toes to count the number of times _interference_ has happened on away missions the kid is involved in – and it's _only been a couple months_ ) so he should expect that too. Something always goes wrong where the kid's involved (and it's like it's a giant cosmic joke, where everyone – including the kid – is involved, and laughing at Leo cause the kid never seems phased) so without a word Leo just moves to take tail, pulling his phaser out (cause it's the kid, and if they can't communicate with the ship, that means giant carnivorous creatures aren't far behind and he wants to be ready).

The kid just laughs at him, (and comments that he's overreacting, but Leo doesn't take it seriously cause the kid pulls out his phaser, too) mentioning something about how they're in the middle of a desert plain and if something wants to eat them they'll see it coming (Leo doesn't bother to state that this soil is loose, and they both know how burrowing creatures have found the kid appetizing in the past).

Leo doesn't comment when the kid keeps checking his communicator (which blinks a cheerful green light when it opens, like it's happy or something, which makes a furrow appear between the kid's eyebrows which distracts Leo like nobody's business) every fifteen steps.

He just follows behind (as always, because there's nowhere else he'll ever be) wherever the kid leads.

(*)

He can't believe he didn't notice before (okay, maybe he can, cause he was checking behind them the entire time instead of looking ahead) but the kid has slowly been leading them towards a rocky protrusion (the only one in viewing distance, and the horizon is a long one). It's been hours, now, that they've been lost (and Leo knows they must have sent search parties out to look for them, but he's exhausted so they must have walked really far out) and it's going to be dark soon.

Leo doesn't relish (is terrified, cause dark plus the kid make his brain think one thing and…never mind) the thought of being on an unknown planet, faced with unknown dangers, while in the dark. They also don't have any way (cause they were only going to be gone for an hour, tops, so what would they need supplies for?) to bring attention to themselves in the dark (don't know how many search parties will be out, besides).

When Leo brings it up, the kid mentions the same concerns (cause he _is_ a master tactician, no matter if Leo likes teasing him about living by the seat of his pants, so he's thought of these things) and explains that's why they're going to the protrusion (which seems halfway between a hill and a mountain, like it can't quite make up its mind). The high ground (cause somehow that's supposed to make Leo feel better, cause while he technically knows how to shoot this phaser, he's never shot it at nobody or nothing and he doesn't know if he can) so they can easily defend themselves. And with the hope that (once they're at the top, where it looks relatively flat so maybe they can camp up there) they can see the city from where they are, and know where to walk to in the morning (if they get to morning).

It makes perfect sense to Leo (after all, he's a doctor not a damn strategist) that is, until they actually begin traveling _up_ the hill. Somehow (they got lucky) there's a thin trail skirting around the protrusion (natural, but nowhere near comfortable or wide enough and Leo's never been afraid of heights but he just decided he is now). They have to put the phasers away to free up both hands for the climb (cause Leo isn't doing anything but cling to side of that hill like it's his most favorite thing ever, and damn if he's ever letting go) so if anything ambushes them they're screwed (and he doesn't even let himself think of the fact that _something_ had to make the trail, and that _something_ might still be here).

But the kid doesn't (bring up that obvious fact, cause from the look in his eyes he's thinking the same damn thing Leo is) comment on their vulnerability, instead saving his breath for the climb.

Slowly (cause he's torn between rushing so they're at a point that's at least moderately safe, and crawling so he doesn't slip and get shattered to pieces) Leo follows after, refusing to look down (cause even though he decided it, that fear of heights is a livid angry thing in the back of his mind and he _really_ doesn't want to make this worse right now) as he puts one foot in front of the other.

He doesn't even register when the kid starts offering words of encouragement (soft and cajoling, joking little burbles that don't fit the situation at all but somehow allow Leo to move just a little bit faster) and Leo speeds up a bit to follow that voice.

About halfway up, they stop to catch their breath and take a drink (cause Leo had the foresight to bring a canteen with them – about the only smart decision he's made all damn day) resting shoulder to shoulder against the side of the hill, staring out at their surroundings.

They, somehow, have ended up staring at the sunset (or whatever it's called here, on this planet, cause Leo can't remember what their star is called) and despite the circumstances Leo's palms get cold (and sweaty, and a tight ball of tension appears in his gut). Because if ever a moment presented itself, it seems like now would be the time.

Gulping, he puts the canteen away (buying himself a moment of time, cause he really does not have the nerves for this kind of thing and – oh god) then turns to the kid.

The kid, who is already starting to shift away (which is just ridiculous, and really proves that Leo just has the worst timing ever but what's he to do?) down the path, his commentary started up again with a chuckle.

"Hey, Jim, wait a sec –"

He finds himself calling out (feeling like an imbecile and he should just really stop now and try again some other time but now that it's started his mouth doesn't seem to want to shut) to his friend. The kid turns, a half-grin (so full of confident and shine, so beautiful so fucking perfect) on his face as he takes one more step forward.

A step that doesn't stop as the ground disappears beneath him (Leo's heart going with it, a strangled cry escaping his throat) a startled expression on the kid's face the moment before he begins to plummet (cause while the protrusion can't decide if it's a mountain or a hill, the sides are steep and sharp and it's a long way to fall).

Leo scrambles forward, desperately grasping (trying to catch the kid before he's too far cause he can't he can't) but the kid's fingers slip between his own before Leo has any hope of getting a grip. Without a second thought, Leo is sliding down after (on his rump, cause this way he has control and he needs to be in one piece when he gets to the bottom cause sure as hell the kid ain't gonna be) as quickly as he can without doing himself any real damage.

So he's in the perfect place to watch as the kid rolls (not screaming, not uttering a word, just keeping his body completely limp to minimize damage) straight down the slope. As he rolls, he picks up speed (at a much faster rate than Leo, cause Leo's trying to control his descent as much as possible while the kid isn't able to) falling, falling falling.

That is, until his forward momentum is suddenly and excruciatingly brought to a halt (and isn't it the kid's luck, cause if he was just one meter in either direction) as he collides with the one boulder in the whole hillside.

The sickening crunch of bone breaking (wet and unmistakable, making tears spring to Leo's eyes and he lets his momentum pick up even if it's not safe cause he can't just –) followed by an ear-splitting scream (filled with so much agony Leo wants to block it out, but he can't cause he needs his hands to steer with).

One breath, three, and then he's at the kid's side (so pale, has to be in shock, how could he not, oh god) touching shoulder, forehead (anywhere but the right leg, which is jutting out at an odd angle and oh god).

"B-Bones…"

Comes a gasp, the kid's voice raw and scratchy from pain as he reaches out a hand (and Leo lets the kid have the one he'd already claimed, it's his and he desperately needs it), using his eyes to check the wound (because he left his kit back on the ship, like the idiot that he is, cause it was just supposed to be a damn diplomatic mission and those don't involve falling down cliffs) because he doesn't want to use his fingers.

But he'll have to, to find out the extent of the damage (it looks bad, it's easy to tell, femur snapped in two but he needs to know how ugly) and then bind it. So he explains to the kid (whose eyes are dilated already, a fresh slick of sweat covering his body) who nods his understanding.

The testing goes as well as can be expected (a lot of hissing on the kid's part, as Leo tries desperately to be as gentle with his fingers as he can, but oh god) and it seems as if it broke cleanly. He pauses, staring up at the kid from his position down by the leg, with his fingers above the break (trying to get the nerve to do it, cause the kid's conscious at the moment even though he probably won't be after Leo finishes).

And he knows what he has to do, so when the kid nods (signaling he's ready, cause he knows this is going to hurt more than breaking it ever did and there's nothing even remotely like painkillers anywhere nearby) he takes in a deep breath and does it.

One clean swift motion, and the bone slips back into alignment (and the kid screams, oh _god_ the kid screams and it breaks Leo's heart but he doesn't have a choice, he can't just _leave_ it like that and they have no idea when help's coming) and then oblivion finds the kid. Grateful (at least for small miracles, though the kid could have used unconsciousness the moment the bone snapped like a twig) Leo doesn't waste any time binding the bone in place (there's nothing long and straight for a splint, so binding will have to do).

Then Leo puts his back up against the rock (cause it's warm and protective, cause there's no way in hell they'll make it to the top of the mountain, not like this) and uses his upper body strength to pull the kid close. Resting the kid's back against his chest (so much contact, but he can't even relish it not in this situation not like this) he cradles the kid between his thighs to keep him safe and supported.

Settled with his head against Leo's chest, (Leo's bare chest, as his shirts were used to make the bindings and Leo can't think about that) the kid fusses in his unconscious state (and he's burning up, and a fever seems to be kicking in and fuck Leo doesn't know what to do now).

Desperate, he fumbles for his communicator with one hand (the other wrapped around the kid's waist, holding him close cause it comforts Leo even if it can't do anything for the kid right now) and presses the button (desperate, but without hope, cause if it didn't work the million times that the kid tried, the millionth and one isn't going to do the trick).

But it does, because the channel crackles to life and he hears the dark one answer his calls (and he could cry, he is crying as he squeezes the unconscious form he's protecting even closer) and he tells them what happened (his voice broken and his desperation clearly showing, but he doesn't care who hears all he wants to do is get the kid to his Sickbay so he can fix that leg before an infection sets in) and gets help sent on its way.

Afterwards, as he's waiting for a team to reach them ( _interference_ still making it impossible to beam them to the ship, but the planet has their coordinates and people are coming) he keeps the communicator propped open beside them (not wanting to close the channel cause what if it disappears again or something else atrocious happens).

Making sure he keeps the cracked leg straight (cause even though the kid's unconscious, he can make the break worse, especially because there's no splint), he carefully cradles the kid to him. Rests his head on the kid's shoulder (brushing his cheek against the kid's, soft underneath the stubble and so warm) he holds the kid with one arm and strokes his fingers through the kid's hair with the other hand (so soft, especially where it brushes against Leo's bare skin and only – but it's no use, not now).

And he almost wishes he'd spoken up, even thirty seconds earlier (cause there is a world of difference between knowing and not knowing, and now that he wants to its killing him by degrees) because if he were allowed to touch the kid like this … (and he can't even finish that thought, cause the hope hurts too much and makes) several more tears appear on his cheeks.


	6. The Sixth Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** And here's the +1 you've all been waiting for ^_^

**A/N:** And here's the +1 you've all been waiting for ^_^

 ****

* * *

 **The Sixth Touch

* * *

**

He can't help it if (he loves every minute of their time together, even if they're not doing anything important) there's a silly little grin on his face. Leo tries to hide it (not that the kid hasn't already seen it, but it's worth the attempt) by ducking his head, focusing on the brush of his thumb against the smooth skin of the apple (smooth, but the sensation is vastly different than the feel of the kid's cheek).

There's chatter all around them (and he doesn't mind so much anymore, is getting comfortable and used to this place and these people) as the mess hall fills to capacity. The rest of the people don't matter (at least he tells himself they don't, because he's) when he's with the kid (who's been the only one that matters, ever since that first day he saw the shining blue).

Leo doesn't even (complain too terribly much, and only ever in his head) notice that the kid doesn't sit next to him anymore. It makes sense (though he hates it, and it grates against his nerves but still) that it would be weird if the kid sat next to Leo, when there's plenty of room across from him. After the first couple of times, the kid must have noticed how much it bothers Leo (okay, it was obvious cause Leo was fidgeting and glaring and there wasn't anything else that could have set him off) and now he always makes sure to press his calf against Leo's leg under the table (which does all kinds of wonderful to Leo's brain, and he's found it's a superbly calming habit which he appreciates greatly).

He is not surprised that today is the same (done without thinking, an automatic habit of the kid's) as every other day – a leg against his (warmth, a touch to bring comfort that makes being in this room so much easier). Making it possible for Leo to ignore the other people (so many of them, that grate on his nerves cause most of them don't have a worthwhile thought in their heads and never will) and anchor him in the kid's presence.

And he knows he has a while (before the requirements of the job get the better of them, and they disappear from each other's presence for who knows how long) before their lunch period is over, and they have to part ways. He's been (looking for the perfect opportunity) trying to find a way to tell the kid, but nothing has presented itself.

Sighing (in frustration, at the futility of circumstances that seem to keep his mouth tight shut on the words) he lifts his head, and watches the kid (full of movement, as always, his hands shifting in hurried patterns as he illustrates his story) as he explains what happened on the Bridge that morning.

Something about evil bug aliens threatening genocide (which really should worry Leo, but after so many months up in this hell hole, he expects _space_ to throw these things at the kid), and the kid's eyes are glowing (he's so _alive_ and so fucking beautiful that after all these years it _still_ makes Leo's heart ache every time he looks at him) as he really gets into the details. Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly, as Leo knows the kid and how he thinks better than the kid knows himself) the kid doesn't get into his part (in the whole ridiculous shindig) but instead glows when he's talking about his crew (who Leo knows the kid loves, loves like nobody's business, and Leo's beginning to love them just as much).

The thought makes a (suspiciously large and conspicuous) lump appear in Leo's throat (cause it's just one of the many, many reasons he loves the kid and why can't he –) because he just wants to say it aloud. He automatically responds to the joke the kid made (which was a good one, and really does deserve that chuckle) as his brain jumps ahead of itself.

The kid can barely hear it over the noise (so loud, this drone, that there's no way Leo can tell what is being said at the next table over, so they sure as hell can't hear him) of all these people. And a thought occurs to him (flashes in, bright and full of hope but does he dare) if he says it, now, no one but the kid will hear. And if he (doesn't like what Leo has to say, starts shouting or even worse closing himself off) needs some time to cool off before going back to the Bridge, he'd have it (lunch is an hour, they can't have been here more than fifteen minutes).

That lump migrates to his stomach (where it turns into a cold hard knot) and he has to shift his leg against the kid's (so the trembling is less evident) as he gulps.

"Hey, Jim –"

And he has the kid's attention (those big blue eyes focused on him, intent on his words) but then those eyes slide away and towards the line for the replicator (and he doesn't want to look, but he _knows_ who it is even before the kid tells him).

Jumping up from the table, the kid disappears (with an apology, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't _know_ and oh god Leo just wants to tell him) and comes back with two others (the dark one, who Leo would never mind _except in this instance_ , and the half-Vulcan he still hasn't forgiven completely even though it's been a year) telling them something about no seats being open anywhere else.

Leo mumbles a greeting (a sharp jibe at the hybrid, who ignores it for now, and a genuine smile for the dark one) as the seating arrangement gets shuffled around. Somehow (and he shouldn't be complaining, he should be happy cause this is what he wanted five minutes before, _but still_ ) the two late arrivals end up on one side of the bench, and the kid settles himself next to Leo.

Grabbing his apple and taking a bite (to hide the fuzzy feeling in his brain, the obvious physiological reaction of having that warm shoulder pressed against his so comfortably and without hesitation) he keeps his focus on his food and ignores the conversation taking place around him.

He no longer cares, anyway (feeling strangely irritated and mollified all at once, and _it's not fair_ but there's nothing he can do), as his thumb brushes against the skin of the fruit (knowing and hating the fact that he wishes it were the kid's cheek, instead).

(*)

He can't believe it (it's been, what, months?) but he and the kid have a night off at the same time (it's been so much a conflict of schedules, of responsibilities, that Leo can't honestly remember the last time it's happened). The kid looks giddy (positively bouncing around the room in his excitement) as he stops by the Sickbay to pick Leo up, bottle of bourbon already in his hand.

Leo had been so excited (deliriously happy when he'd realized, so much so that he'd had trouble breathing for a moment) when he'd learned, when he'd told the kid it would happen. And he's been (counting the seconds, as they dragged on for infinity) waiting impatiently ever since.

And it's here (and he knows what he should do tonight, but right now he just wants to _enjoy_ and be in the kid's presence and they have all night anyway) and the kid is leading him (By the hand. _By the hand_ ) where he wants them to go. Leo told him earlier he didn't care (they're in warp right now, so it's not like there's a lot of choices for location) where they ended up, as long as it was just them and a bottle (and he doesn't know how that managed to slip out, but the kid didn't react oddly, so it must have been received okay).

Stopping before a door (and turning to give Leo a huge grin, one of those deliciously crinkly smiles and he looks so _happy_ ) he inputs a code, letting them in. Leo slips in behind, the door closing after, and he freezes (cause it's beautiful, and the kid is beautiful and he just really can't find any words) as he stares around himself.

It's an observation deck (a tiny one, tucked in this corner ignored and forgotten except to the kid), and even though the stars are simulated at this speed, it's stunning. There's already a blanket on the ground (and now Leo remembers, glances at the stars for confirmation, but it's true – they mirror the stars back in San Francisco) and the kid must have done this on purpose, because this is what they used to do when they went drinking (just the two of them) back at the Academy.

The grin on the kid's face is huge (and he can't help but respond to it, even if he doesn't want to, cause this just makes the kid so damn happy) as he watches Leo's face intently for his reaction.

"I knew you'd appreciate it, Bones."

The kid's face shifts for a moment, (the expression too fleeting for Leo to make out) the words are soft (small, and said with a sense of approval that does funny things to Leo's brain) and then the kid is back to normal. He sets the bottle down, and drops bonelessly to the ground (and he's only a couple years younger than Leo, but it always seems like he's capable of movement that Leo's never been able to do), looking up at Leo expectantly.

Lowering himself to the ground (and he creaks, like an old man, though he's only thirty two so he shouldn't feel as if he's half-dead already) he leans back on the blanket (like he used to, like they used to, in what feels like a lifetime ago) and stares at the stars moving at greater-than-average speeds around them.

His position earns him a chuckle, and then the kid is lying down next to him (points of contact at thigh and forearm, their heads so close together they're nearly touching) and pointing out a constellation. Picking up on the game, Leo identifies one in turn, and they pass back and forth trying to remember the stars they haven't seen in a while (and Leo wouldn't turn back time for anything, he loves what he does and he knows the kid does too) with nostalgic wistfulness.

A finger pokes against his shoulder (not hard, never hard, but just enough to pull Leo's attention back to the present) and then a soft murmured observation.

"I've missed spending time with you."

The lump flies back into his throat (and he's blinking back tears, which makes him glower cause he's a grown man and he's not going to cry) and he's left floundering for a moment. This should be the perfect opportunity (and how could it not be? After those words, and in this place and) but his throat closes on the words (cause it _is_ perfect, and he just wants to enjoy this cause he hasn't had it in so damn long and god) and he lets the moment slip away.

Turns the kid's attention instead to a memory they share of the past (cause he wants to remember, to be here, in this place with him now), something hilarious that happened so Leo can hear him laugh.

There'll be other chances (and if they don't come themselves, he'll sure as hell make some).

(*)

Of course (cause it's just his luck, always working against him and he's fucking crazy now, that's what he is) it's weeks before another opportunity presents itself. And this one isn't organic and perfect (like the other one had been, and why the _hell_ hadn't he told the kid then and there? He's a chicken shit, that's what he is) it's more like he's constructing it himself.

They are hovering above a planet (a striking pale blue – the perfect shade to match the kid's eyes) and Leo manages to find out when the kid was getting his next night off. Then it's a simple matter of convincing the head nurse (who he's grown attached to, and adores, and who knows what this is all about so lets him go with a laugh) to let him leave the Sickbay for several hours (because it's quiet, and nothing's happening on the planet, so they should be fine in her care).

He gets down early (cause he's been planning this in his head for the last week, and he wants it to be perfect he knows just the spot) to set everything up. The table, the white tablecloth and the vase with the rose (and oh god it reminds him of every uppity restaurant he's always hated, but this is the _kid_ so romanticism is acceptable) and the food in heated containers. The food, at least, isn't what would be typically expected in this setting (cheesy as all get out) instead, he has each and every one of the kid's favorite foods (and he knows what all of these are, as he's kept a running list in his head) laid out for him to choose from.

Popping out his communicator, he places a call (his hands shaking so bad he's glad he's alone, cause his nerves are promising to kill him right here right now) telling the kid the tech in transporter room three has the coordinates. Then he's left (running his hands down the front of his slacks, trying to wipe the sweat away but it keeps coming back and oh god) to pace back and forth, waiting for the kid's arrival.

Ten minutes later (though it feels like ten years) the familiar shimmer of transporter energy appears, the kid following after. Leo gulps (the terror multiplying a thousand fold) as the kid steps forward – until he catches sight of Leo (standing, like an idiot in his suit when the kid is in a t-shirt and jeans, but he forgot to tell the kid to dress up and) freezing with an unreadable expression on his face.

Watching (his heart in his throat and hammering in his ears) as the kid's eyes roam over the scene (taking in the dining table, the sunset that matches the kid's eyes) and eventually make their way back to Leo.

"Bones…what is this?"

Clearing his throat (trying to shove his heart back down, because _it does not belong there_ ) he glances anywhere but at the kid. The words (fuck, the words, his worst enemy and his greatest friend and they always desert him when he needs them the most) don't want to come out (turn to molasses on his tongue, slow and foreign and not even a trickle).

The kid walks forward (standing so close Leo can see the flecks of lighter blue in the darker depths and they stop any processing capability his brain had tried to hold on to) and places a hand on Leo's forearm – giving a squeeze.

Those eyes are begging for an answer (demanding an explanation, the whites shining and damp) as the kid repeats his question. Leo gulps, lifting a hand (cause if he's going to do this, he's going to touch the kid, cause it might be his last chance and he wouldn't want to have it any other way) to cover the one on his arm.

His hand is stilled and the silence is broken (not by the words screaming to come past Leo's lip, but instead) by the communicator on the table, and the one at the kid's side, coming alive (and everything is in tatters and Leo wants to scream louder than the call to work but he can't and he won't) and calling to them urgently.

Frustration flares in the kid's eyes (making Leo even angrier, cause it's not like this is his fault he wanted to he was going to if he'd just had a minute more) as he activates his communicator (snapping immediately from friend to commanding officer demanding the answers to his questions).

Leo flips open his own communicator, his head nurse's voice coming through (urgent, and desperate, calling him back to work and blood and death and away from the side of the one he wants to be with more than anything) calls him back to duty.

(*)

Hours later (after he's pulled several people back from the brink, laughed in death's face and washed the blood off his hands) Leo is finally freed from his duties in Sickbay. Dragging himself to his cabin (alone, and empty, as it always has been and damn it looks like it always will be) to finish the last of his paperwork, he tries to push all thoughts of the kid (and what happened) out of his mind.

When he enters, the light is already on, his bed already occupied (and he knows who it is, because if Leo's the compass needle than the kid is north and his whole body recognizes the kid on some kind of unconscious level and Leo'd be able to find him with his eyes closed) by an exhausted looking kid.

Who's holding his hand cradled against his chest (still in a way he hasn't been in a long time, bedraggled and worn looking) as he looks up at Leo (and gives a little half-smile, and Leo can tell it's for his benefit cause the kid doesn't really feel like smiling).

Grabbing the kit that's on his desk (that's always on his desk, a holdover from the days when the kid would…when the kid would visit his rooms, instead of the clinic) he kneels at the edge of the bed, laying it open beside him. Gingerly (cause he doesn't know the extent of what's been done, doesn't want to cause any more damage) he takes the kid's hand in both of his own, inspecting it with a critical eye.

The kid starts up a dialogue (his voice cracking, and Leo can tell he's had to do some screaming earlier, when the world was falling apart around them), telling him exactly what happened on the ship (like he always does, cause it seems to soothe him and it's not like Leo doesn't always _always_ love the sound of that voice). Satisfied by what he sees (it's nothing but a few scratches and what looks like a burn, but how any of them happened the kid probably has no idea) Leo rummages in his kit until he finds the necessary supplies.

Listening to the kid's story, Leo can't help but smile to himself (because the kid is amazing, damn, and Leo's so in love with him because the kid can do anything and everything all at once and just being in his _presence_ here when he's half dead from exhaustion is enough to rival the sun) though he tries to hide it by ducking his head to look closer at his handiwork.

The kid isn't even trying to explain why he ended up in Leo's bedroom (instead of at the clinic, where he should have gone and…wait a second, there's something important and if he just) just laughing at himself for not noticing when his hand got scratched up. Glancing up at the kid through his eyelashes, Leo (is struck as if by a physical blow, the open emotion blazing from those bright blue eyes rocking him to the core) is stunned frozen by the look of longing and desire flickering over the kid's face.

The kid, who is here instead of at Sickbay (as he comes to Leo, always, even from the very beginning). The kid, who takes every opportunity to touch him (when anyone else would have been pushed away by Leo's gruff exterior, he just wanted to get closer) – the kid who smiles just for him ( _so many_ real smiles Leo's been gifted with, when he's seen time and time again the kid just gives everyone else his cocky grin). Leo is the one that the kid dragged along with him, making sure they graduated at the same time – Leo is the one the kid spends every free moment with (and it's so open and obvious _and why hadn't he seen it before?_ ).

It must have been denial (denial of self, denial of reality, denial of the truth that's been right in front of his eyes and – fuck). He's wasted time, when they could have been together (when the kid could have been his, cause he's belonged to the kid ever since that first damn day in the bar) if it hadn't been for Leo and his fear of pushing the kid away.

His eyes return to the hand held gently in his (so strong, these hands, though the bones look delicate – and given so freely to his without a thought) as the voice above him goes quiet. There's no movement from Jim (his feet calm, his other hand resting gently on his thigh) and it's so strange, so unlike him that it breaks Leo's heart. How long has he been cutting this brilliant man (who's been telling him from that first day, in his own way, how much he cares for Leo and Leo was just _blind_ ) with his silent refusal?

With one trembling finger, he brushes against one of the cuts on Jim's fingers (a cut he's cleaned and bandaged, as he's done so many times and how can he claim to _fix_ Jim if he's breaking him at the same time?), sighing to himself at his stupidity.

Lifting the hand to his lips, he presses a kiss against the cut (promising, deep inside in that place where he never lies not even to himself) and then brushes another against that large palm.

"Bones…."

A whisper (full of confusion and wonder and far too many other emotions for Leo to place so he doesn't even try) above his head, as a hand brushes the back of Leo's neck in question. So he takes that palm, and he presses his cheek against it (cause no matter how many times Jim has touched him, it hasn't been like _this_ ) and gives another sigh.

The hand against his neck rests there, threading through his hair as Jim pulls him close (into the protective shelter of strong legs, pressing Leo tight against his chest).

"Bones, I –"

Leo silences him with another kiss against the palm he has captured (and this time he can feel how it makes Jim shiver, and oh damn it does glorious things to his heart). He could take the time to explain with words all that Jim means to him (but he's never been glib, words have never been his friend and he knows they won't be now) but instead Leo shows him.

 ****

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 **A/N:** This concludes the actual story – the epilogue is rated M, and is just a continuation of the, um, naughty bits from this point that I didn't want to include in the story proper.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This epilogue contains graphic depictions of M/M (that's male on male) sexual acts.

**A/N:** This epilogue contains graphic depictions of M/M (that's male on male) sexual acts.

 ****

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 **Epilogue

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**

Shifting on his knees, (held gently between Jim's warm thighs) Leo presses a kiss against Jim's forearm, over a scar (that he remembers Jim getting in their second year at school, stitching him together with his own hands). Loosening his hold, Leo takes one set of fingertips and brushes them along that forearm (never daring before to touch, but now –) and continuing up, over a defined shoulder and up a lean neck.

Jim's stubble tickles the pads of Leo's fingers, and then they pause on his lips (and Leo's heart is in his throat, _again_ , cause he still doesn't really know what Jim is going to do or say or be now) with a little tremble. Leo can feel the feather-touch of a kiss against his fingers (so soft, and gentle like Jim can't believe this is happening either), and then those lips spread in the most glorious smile he's seen yet.

His hand lowers again, brushing feather-light against Jim's neck, wrapping fingers around to grasp gently and pull Jim close (cause he's been wanting to for…forever). He pauses with just millimeters between them (oh god is this really happening?) staring into Jim's eyes (asking of this is okay).

There's laughter in those eyes as Jim closes the distance between them in a heartbeat, his lips brushing against Leo's in the lightest of touches (they're so warm, and soft, and _this is really happening_ ). Leo takes over, kissing each corner of Jim's lips in turn, then another chaste kiss to his mouth (and his brain nearly melts when a tongue darts out to taste his lips). As the kiss continues the feel of it changes (loosing its questioning edge, the desire coming to the fore) as the brush of lips extends, and Jim's lips part to allow Leo's tongue entrance.

A moan against his mouth (Leo's brain fizzle-popping at the noise) and Leo's hands can't stay still anymore. The one on Jim's neck tightens, trying to pull him even closer as the other sneaks under the tattered remains of Jim's shirt, sensitive fingertips exploring flesh (don't think don't think just be _here_ ).

Jim's hands are exploring too, (the calluses rough on the skin of Leo's back, sending delicious shivers through his nerves) and he shifts to the edge of the bed, moaning lightly in the back of his throat. Leo rises fully to his knees, clutching with the hand on Jim's back and pressing them together (and he can feel the rising bulge in Jim's pants pressing against his belly, and it makes his own erection twitch in response).

When they part for air the words come (he whispers them against Jim's lips, giving them to him as gifts) – everything he's ever wanted to say, that he's dreamed of in the dark and alone. As he speaks, Jim's hands are busy (making soft circles at the small of Leo's back, stroking through his hair with trembling fingertips) and his lips part as he breathes.

Those eyes (the eyes he's been watching for years, desperate for any glance) mist over, and then Leo's lips are captured again (this time hungrily, as Jim rubs himself against Leo's belly and makes Leo moan). The hunger (awakens the desire that's been burning in Leo's blood for years) spurs Leo forward, and he pulls Jim's shirt up and over his head – interrupting the kiss for a heartbeat (but it continues even fiercer than before).

The buttons of Leo's shirt are being opened (by anxious fingers), and Leo takes advantage of the space between them to run his fingertips over hard muscles (brushing over a nipple, the line of a pectoral and down the abdominals) then his thumb brushes against the nub of Jim's belly button (which has always fascinated Leo, but he's never been allowed to _touch_ ).

His own shirt falls away, and his skin is on fire (shivering in delight as Jim's fingers explore _everywhere_ , each new touch awakening nerves) as his hand curls to the side, resting over Jim's hip (his thumb resting in the indention of the bone, brushing against the skin there as Jim trembles in his arms). He transfers his attentions from Jim's mouth (which he'll never, ever, get tired of kissing but there is so much skin here, just begging to be touched) to kiss along the path his fingertips followed minutes before, his tongue worshipping Jim's collarbone.

A sigh from Jim, and the other man's head is thrown back (and Leo takes advantage of the exposed skin, licking and sucking and nibbling each and every inch) as his hands stroke Leo's sides. Leo's mouth travels down, leaving a trail of slick saliva down Jim's chest as his tongue dives in that belly button (and then his teeth nibble at that tempting hip bone, making Jim buck against him).

While his mouth is busy, his hands slide further down (unfastening Jim's pants and slipping the fabric down to) grasping Jim's ass confidently, squeezing the taut flesh in his palms. Obligingly, Jim lifts his hips and (taking the opportunity to stroke every firm leg muscle as he goes) Leo pushes the pants all the way off to pool on the floor.

Ignoring the obvious erection (that leaves a damp spot of precum on Leo's belly as their bodies collide once again) Leo capture's Jim's lips in another kiss, enjoying the feel of Jim's skin beneath his hands.

That is, until a whimper (and a cant of hips, which rubs Jim's cock against the planes of Leo's belly) begs Leo for his notice. Teasingly, he starts again at the hipbones, his hands ghosting over smooth flesh to reach the inside of Jim's thighs (where they pause for a moment, enjoying the sensation of hard muscle) then the barest hint of the back of his hand brushing against Jim's shaft, but instead Leo grasps the other man's balls gently in one hand, rolling them between his fingers. The hips beneath him jerk again, as a whimper is released against his lips.

"Bones…!"

He can't help but smile to himself, as he releases Jim's lips and slowly, slowly, lowers his head (watching Jim the entire time, loving the sight of his lips all swollen and his eyes heavy lidded) until he's hovering over Jim's twitching cock. Opening his mouth, he lets a moist hot breath escape against the head of Jim's cock, then his tongue follows after in a lazy circle (to capture the remaining drops of precum).

Jim's lips part as a moan escapes, his hips bucking upward as Leo takes him all in (until Jim's hard cock is pressing against the back of his throat, thick and insistent) – forcing Leo to hold him down by the hand on his hipbone, so he can avoid getting choked. His eyes don't leave Jim's face as he watches intently for the other man's reactions (a curl of his tongue _there_ gives him _this_ moan of extra pleasure) and committing each and every one to memory.

While his mouth is busy his free hand is digging through his kit (until his fingers wrap around the bottle he was searching for, and he's grateful he's always kept everything imaginable in his kit) and then he pulls off of Jim's cock with a last swirl of his tongue, the fingers of his left hand already coated with the lube.

With one finger he makes a lazy circle around Jim's tight hole (and now his eyes are on his hands, and what he's doing to Jim, cause he doesn't want to miss a single thing) then brushes against the entrance. The finger slides in, slow and gentle (he doesn't want to hurt this man, no, never hurt this man) as the tight muscles flex to allow him entrance.

A moan from above him, (as he brushes his finger against that magic spot deep inside Jim causing him to) as Jim bucks against his hand. Pumping several times, Leo withdraws (only to insert two fingers, the muscles stretching to accept the new pressure) then begins to slowly pump in earnest, trying to hit that spot each time.

But he must be going too slow (cause Jim is alternating between a moan and a whimper, and he might be doing it on purpose cause he's just loving the sounds) because Jim grasps Leo's wrist in his own, and moves against him harder, and faster (and he's _fucking himself with Leo's hand_ and Leo can't take his eyes off the sight and oh god his cock is so hard –).

He can't hold off anymore, and Leo shucks his pants (they tangle around his knees but he doesn't care cause he's watching Jim bucking like a wild thing and _fuck_ ) and his hand is around his cock, fist a blur as glorious friction builds. After a handful of swift pumps (and he's nearly at the edge and oh god he needs to be inside or or) he releases himself, hand fumbling for the lube with something very much like desperation.

Taking control of his hand (though he hates to stop Jim's movements, he wants inside and he wants it _now_ ) he brushes against Jim's prostate with three fingers now, making Jim's cock twitch and dribble against his stomach.

Leaning forward again, he captures Jim's lips in a deep kiss (tongues clashing and mouths devouring one another) as Jim's arms wrap around his neck, pulling Leo along as Jim leans back against the bed. Leo pulls his fingers out, slowly, then uses them to guide the head of his cock in (so warm and slick and tight around him and _oh fuck_ ). As the first inch slides in, Jim tenses between him (a flinch across his features as his eyes close) and Leo takes his face between his hands (elbows braced and holding up his bodyweight) and presses kisses against his eyelids.

"Darlin'…so beautiful. I…I…"

Jim smiles, his eyes opening (so _blue_ and right beneath Leo, and Leo's here doing _this_ and) as his hands skim Leo's sides to grasp his ass in long, strong fingers. Lifting his head the fraction required, Jim nips at Leo's bottom lip, drawing him close for another kiss (as those hands tighten, grinding Leo forward until he's fully sheathed inside Jim).

Gasping as Jim takes him all in, Leo freezes with his head somehow nestled in the other man's shoulder (cause he can't think, and he can't breathe, all he can do is feel). And then (because he needs to, because he can't stop and his body is begging for it just like the man beneath him is) he draws out once more, only to pound in again – deep, until his balls slap again Jim's ass.

It takes a couple more tentative strokes (where he's far too involved with everything that's happening, and can't concentrate on what they both need) before he finds his rhythm, and then it clicks into place and Jim starts writhing beneath him (cause he's pounding that place, cause once he found it he'll never lose it again) and his fingers and flexing convulsively as they cling to Leo's sides.

He knows he can't take much (he's so hard, so close, he's amazed he hasn't come eighteen times already) and so he shifts all his weight to one elbow (the other hand slipping between their two sweat-slicked bodies), grasping Jim's length and pumping in time with his own rhythm.

"Bones!"

A cry, and then the clinging fingers are digging into his sides (hard enough to leave bruises but he certainly doesn't mind) as his hand and chest are coated in thick fluid. The muscles clenching around his cock are too much and Leo's world explodes (and he's seeing stars, gasping as his teeth dig into Jim's shoulder to hide his grunts) and waves and waves of pleasure engulf him.

He collapses against Jim (panting and gasping and not able to support his own weight anymore) as the other man's arms wrap around him and hold him tight. A chuckle that he feels more than hears (cause Jim is exhausted as much as he, if not more so) as a gentle kiss gets pressed against his temple.

"Come on, baby…."

Whispered instructions cajole him to move (cause Jim's back hurts, and they need to really get comfortable), even through the fog of sated satisfaction that's calling him down. Resolving to clean up in the morning, when they've both had a good night's sleep, Leo wraps himself around Jim as he lays on his side (cause he's not letting Jim out of his sight, not now, not ever), holding the other man close against his chest. He strokes his fingers through Jim's hair, reveling in what they've done (what they're _still_ doing, and what this means and and).

And then his jaw cracks in a ridiculously huge yawn, and he closes his eyes (drifting off to the sound of Jim's whisper, a soft litany of all the things he finds wondrous about Leo that Leo can't believe) as a callused hand strokes his cheek.


End file.
